Aeric's Song Melody
by Auna
Summary: Futurefic Series #14: John and Aeryn's son travel through a wormhole on a mission to save Earth. Part of the BrennikAeric universe.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Aeric's Song- Melody

Author: Auna

Illustrations: Lobsteronmyhead

Rating:M (for now, will change later)

Disclaimer: Farscape is not mine, and I am not making any money off this story.

Beta's: Thank you to Shipsister for the technical read-throughs and for all the wonderful pep talks. Thank you to Aeryncrichton for reading through and giving me helpful advice and more pep talks. Any and all mistakes are mine.

Author's Notes: You would not be getting this story if it were not for my husband. He suggested and gently pushed me into writing more fanfic when my original work had come to a standstill. Thank you to him for being so understanding and supportive.

Thank you to the Fluffy Bunnies. I tried to keep notes on everyone who spoke up to my countless questions and scenarios, but everyone stepped up and gave me help, encouragement, and lots of varying points of view. I had the purpose of this story, but it had no _point_. And the Bunnies came through for me and helped me come up with a plot for the beast. So thank you to them.

Thank you to Loby for her hours of patience and photo-shop manipulation. She is a goddess at these pictures. More animators will be named later, as their pictures are posted. But a heartfelt thank you to all of them as well.

Now for the explanation: This is a continuation of a series I wrote nearly two years ago. gasp It was a series started before PKW, and at the time was not AU, merely futurefic. I hate writing AU. _You do not need to have read the previous stories in this series to understand this story._ All you need to know to get the ball rolling is that Aeric is the son of John and Aeryn, and Laighn is the adopted son of Chiana and D'Argo. However, should you choose to go back and refresh, or start at the beginning, you may find the entire series from beginning to end here at story is finished. I am polishing the later chapters now, but the story is entirely written. THE PLAN: With the exception of this weekend, I will post a chapter a week, probably Saturday mornings after I get out of bed. (Which I can tell you now, isn't at the crack of dawn.) All new chapters will be posted in this thread, as you can see by the reserved posts.

And I think that's about it. Thank you for your time. I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 1

The swirling blue tunnel stretched out before him; pulling, cajoling, singing to him. The music filled his heart, beckoning to him. Yet he hesitated.

"Aeric, are you all right?" Laighn asked from the seat beside him. "This is the one you wanted."

"I know," he replied, unsure why he waited. "This is it."

"Second thoughts?" his friend asked with concern. "If you're not sure about this-"

"I'm sure," he replied. He was sure. This was the only logical answer, the only solution. He'd studied for sixteen cycles, prepared himself in every way. Millions upon millions of lives were counting on him to finish his mission, including his family.

"Activate the cloaking device," he instructed. Laighn pushed the appropriate buttons above his head, and the correct _bleep, bleep_ noise sounded. "You ready for this?" he asked his half Sebacean, half Nebari co-pilot.

"No. Unlike you, I've never been in one of these things," Laighn replied calmly.

"You're not scared, are you?" Aeric asked with a smirk.

"Since you designed and built this pile of dren we're flying, yeah. I'm terrified." He pulled a charm hanging on a chain around his neck from beneath his shirt and kissed it quickly before stuffing back inside the material and patting it gently. He was content now.

"Oh ye of little faith," Aeric told him as he gently pushed the wheel forward, tipping the craft just far enough into the natural gravity of the wormhole to be caught. "I've got it all under control."

They were swallowed by the blue vortex, but their flight was smooth. There was no panic, no dizzying spinning, no screaming. All gauges on the flight panel before them confirmed that all was well. "Hang on," was his only word of caution before punching a button on the panel.

Instantly, their craft shot forward, throwing them against their seats with the force. Aeric breathed deeply, his eyes intent on the path before him. Laighn merely sat quietly, mumbling under his breath and flinching whenever the tunnels broke apart, causing the small ship to be hurled left or right.

Up, down, sideways they traveled. Aeric lost track of time, intent on the gauges before him and the music in his head, high on adrenalin. He was born for this. He was the master of wormholes, long ago surpassing his father in understanding them. It was in his blood… literally.

At last, the blue tunnel disappeared and they shot into the blackness of space, free from the turbulent current. A blue planet appeared through the screen before them- calm, peaceful. White clouds curled through the atmosphere, obscuring part of the small world from view.

"That's it, huh?" Laighn asked.

"Yup," Aeric answered.

Both men simply studied the blue orb for a few microts, letting the silence stretch out, each lost in his own thoughts. Finally, Laighn spared his partner in crime a quick glance. "Excited to visit the ol' homeworld again?"

"It's a hit and run, Laighn."

"It doesn't have to be, you know. There's plenty of time still."

Aeric sighed, pushing the wish to the back of his mind. He'd been obsessed with Earth since he was thirteen cycles old; over half his life. He'd gotten a small taste of it when he'd accidentally fallen through a wormhole and met his grandfather. He'd been granted tantalizing tidbits of information through the old movies his father had stashed.

But even though it stared him in the face at this very moment, even though he was about to walk over its (to him) hallowed ground, it was still just outside his grasp. Besides, it wasn't the right century. "I promised Dad. In, out, back to Moya. Hit and run. Zero presence."

Laighn snorted. "You've been hanging around Sethya too much."

Aeric couldn't help but laugh; he _had _sounded a bit like the ex-peacekeeper. "You ready?" he asked his friend.

"Let's go," Laighn answered.

"Double check the cloaking device."

Laighn pushed a few buttons and studied the panel in front of him. "Still holding. I gotta give it to you, Aeric, that was a brilliant piece of tech work. I think even Tean was impressed. Now if you could just make one big enough to cover Moya, we'd be set."

"I could, if we didn't mind sacrificing life support systems."

Laighn laughed. "It wouldn't be the first time we'd have to breathe shallow."

"Yeah, well. We have other issues at the moment."

"Right. Flower Power. Let's go commit mass murder."

Cringing over the accuracy of Laighn's flippant statement, Aeric pushed a few more controls and directed his ship to the planet ahead. Time to commit genocide.

_Wham!_

A screaming siren blasted throughout the cabin of their small spacecraft as they slammed into the flight panel. Aeric's head felt as if it would explode, and he could feel blood trickling over his hairline. "What the frell was that?"

Laighn was in no better condition, his pinkish blood oozing from a gash in his cheek as he quickly scanned the monitors. "I'm not sure. I think it came outta the wormhole."

"Oh frell," Aeric said, looking at the monitors in front of him. "Oh frell, oh frell, oh frell."

"What?" Laighn asked, the fear leaking into his voice, despite his efforts to remain casual. "What!"

"We're going down."

As if to confirm Aeric's grave assessment of the situation, his ship began to shudder and a panel at the rear of the flight room fell to the ground with a muted crash. White steam poured from five separate vents in the flooring.

Laighn began to flip switches and turn knobs, desperately trying to compensate for the atmospheric and mechanical anomalies. Aeric held tightly to the flight stick, using every skill he could conjure to keep the craft under control. "Where's Brennic when you need her?" he asked, his strained voice barely audible through the chaos around him.

"You're your mother's son, Aeric. Get a grip!" Laighn yelled. "And get to Earth NOW. We won't hold together much longer."

He jumped out of his seat and ran the short distance to the rear of the cockpit, once again pushing buttons and twisting knobs. Fire blasted from a control panel and he grabbed an extinguisher, desperately trying to put out the flames and remain upright at the same time.

Their speed was far greater than Aeric had ever intended this craft to travel outside of wormholes, and the planet was looming larger and larger. They entered atmosphere and the control room began to heat up to almost intolerable levels. They passed the white fluffy clouds that had intrigued him earlier. The ground sped towards them, all while Aeric gripped the flight stick, struggling to maintain any amount of maneuverability.

The impression of vast amounts of green entered his mind briefly, just as his module slammed to the earth. Aeric and Laighn were thrown to the floor, sparks and steam erupting around them. The young Crichton felt his head slam against something hard, something sharp, and blackness began to descend.

His final thought, before the oblivion released him from any pain, was that he had failed everyone he loved, failed mankind, failed countless species seeking respite. And then there was nothing.

---

Thomas Caruthers stood and stretched his back, working the kink with his calloused hands, ignoring the questioning look from the horse hitched to the tether in front of him. He was getting too old for this. If he wasn't careful, his daughter Emmaline would realize something was wrong, and then she would be unnecessarily worried as well. He desperately wanted to save her that burden. Soon, she would have enough to deal with.

He looked around at their small, isolated farm, pleased with the view. Their cabin was some distance away, the smoke from the cook fire rising into the blue sky in a lazy, thin stream. Jasper, their milking cow, was roaming idly, flicking her tail occasionally as the flies teased her. He couldn't hear the chickens from this distance, but he could see them wandering around their pen, enjoying the crisp spring afternoon.

It wasn't fancy by any standards, nor would they ever get rich working this land. But it had been home for over ten years now, and had served them well. Some seasons were harder than others, but the land and the good Lord had always provided. He was counting on that trend to continue. Marcus would return soon, and Emmaline would be safe. He simply needed to hold on a little longer.

It was getting more difficult though, and he was beginning to wonder if his neighbor had even survived. "Dear Lord," he said, taking off his wide brimmed hat and wiping his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt as he raised his eyes heavenward. "I'm getting worried. It doesn't look like Marcus is coming back, and you and I both know that my time on this good earth is getting short.

"Emmaline is a good girl; she's obedient and works hard. But she's not cut out to work this place by herself. And Douglas Standry is just waiting for me to go to the great beyond to get his hands on our land. What will my daughter do without my protection? That man wouldn't treat Emmaline right. She'll be all alone in the world. I'm all she has now that her mother has passed on. Lord, please, show me the way. Show me what I need to do. Whatever you want, no matter how hard, I'll do it. In Jesus' name- Amen."

No sooner had the benediction to his prayer passed through his lips than a grayish black trail of smoke curled across the sky above him. Was it a sign from God? The trail was hurtling at a speed that boggled poor Thomas' mind, and he gasped in fear as the trail descended ever closer to his small farm.

He watched as the billowing cloud passed overhead before some unseen, awful force slammed through the trees in the surrounding forest, finally stopping with crash louder than her could ever imagined. He waited for a moment, shocked into stillness, fear gnawing at his stomach.

But this could be the answer to his prayer. This was a sign from his maker that his girl would be taken care of, and who was he to balk at the good Lord's wisdom. Hadn't he told God "no matter how hard"?

Gulping to wet his parched mouth, and breathing deep to calm his racing heart, he untangled himself from the harness on his plow and stepped toward the crash site. He had to do this. He had to go see what had happened.

Truth be told, the trip took slightly longer than need be. His legs were having a hard time obeying his command. But they were reluctantly true to their master, and at last he stood at the edge of the new, small clearing, shocked by what he saw. The place was stripped, the ground smashed, as if some heavy object had pressed into the ground. The trees were torn, splintered, some completely uprooted and seemingly trapped against other trees.

A man, unlike any he had ever seen before was stumbling over debris, dragging something behind him. His hair was midnight black with streaks of blonde, while his skin was so pale it was almost white. His lips were dark grey, and at that moment, they were grimacing with the effort the load was causing him. Thick, pink liquid was mottled in his hair, and slowly gliding over his brow into his eyes. He was wearing grey pants and a grey tunic, cinched around his stomach by a brown belt that appeared to be wrapped several times around his middle.

The load he was pulling was a man; a bleeding, unconscious man, and Thomas had to wonder briefly if this creature had been the cause of the current state of the individual being dragged. But no, the pale person was trying to be careful, if quick. And it was obvious he was injured. He stumbled several times, and at last fell to the earth in an unconscious heap beside the man he'd been trying to help.

Now was the time for decisions. "Lord," Thomas said under his breath, "Grant me the wisdom and the strength to do Thy will."

These strange men had been sent here by God to help him, and he would not let his own fear, or lack of understanding, impede His will.

---

The world around Aeric was no longer black; it was a fuzzy brownish-grey. His head felt as if someone was tearing it apart with a shavnel-prong, and his body was screaming with all the aches and pains. He'd lived. Somehow, he'd survived the crash. Taking in a shuddery breath, he attempted to move; his leg, his arm, his head- he didn't care what, but the effort merely compounded his agony and his lungs expelled the air of their own volition.

"It's all right," a soft, feminine voice assured him. A feather soft caress brushed the hair out of his eyes and lingered over his brow, offering comfort. "You need to lie still, or you will make your injuries worse."

Holy dren, someone had found them. His mind slowly began to process the implication of that realization, and panic set in. His heart started racing and unbearable pressure pushed down on his chest. These people wouldn't understand.

"Laighn," he gasped, riddled with guilt and remorse over exposing his friend to this danger.

"Your companion is alive and resting, as you should be," the woman's voice assured and reprimanded simultaneously. "It is time for rest."

Aeric felt the rough edge to a cup press against his lips, and sweet moisture tipped into his mouth and dribbled over his chin. He hadn't realized how thirsty he'd been, but the instant the liquid seeped over this parched tongue his body greedily consumed as much as the unseen woman would allow. Twice, the cup was refilled and both times it was drained.

His head was gently lowered to a soft cushion; he hadn't realized that it had been lifted to accommodate his drinking, and overpowering weariness began to confuse his mind. He couldn't fight any longer. Slowly, his thoughts faded until he was once again drifting through blessed oblivion.

---

When Aeric opened his eyes again, the room was no longer brownish-grey or fuzzy. His head no longer felt as though his brain was hanging from his skull, and the searing pain in every dench of his body was now a dull ache. Things were slightly improving.

"Hello," a vaguely familiar voice greeted.

He gently turned his head to stare into the most beautiful green eyes he'd ever seen. The owner of the eyes was sitting in a wooden chair in a corner of the small room, her raised crafting needles held motionless as she looked at him expectantly. It was apparent her blond hair was supposed to be in a bun, but loose strands framing her face hung limp, as if she hadn't had the time or inclination to fix the trivial problem.

"Hello," Aeric responded nervously. He needed to be careful. This was not supposed to happen. No one was ever supposed to have seen them. "Where's my friend?" He asked in English, grateful he had forced himself to learn the language decently after the last time he'd been here. The sooner he could grab Laighn and leave this place, the sooner they could assess the damage and begin repairs.

The young woman stood, placing her needles on the chair behind her before stepping closer to the bed. Her long brown skirt and petticoats swished as she moved, her boots clunking on the wooden floor with her progression. Reaching a short table beside the bed, she poured water from a pitcher into a wooden cup and held it out for Aeric to grab.

"He is resting, as you are."

"Thank you for your help," Aeric began, intent on leaving, making an effort to sit up. "But he and I need to get going."

"Your companion needs rest. So do you." Gently, she placed a rough hand on his bare shoulder and pushed back into the pillow, holding out the cup for him once more.

He'd been too weak to resist, so he merely accepted the cup and gulped quickly, hoping that obedience would grant him a measure of freedom. "My friend has medical issues you won't be able to fix. I need to help him. I need to get him back to…" he paused briefly, trying to come up with a term for his personal space module that she would understand. "… our ship."

It was a lame explanation; there weren't any oceans within a few thousand metras of the crash site. In an effort to go unseen, he'd purposely chosen one of the least populated areas he could manage to reach as his beloved ship hurtled through earth's atmosphere. A wasted effort, it appeared.

"You are in no condition to go anywhere," she told him firmly. For a petite young woman, she seemed to have a will of stone. And she wasn't budging. "You have a concussion and several injuries that will take a long time to heal."

Dren. But he'd been through worse and had managed to walk, crawl and drag himself to safety. This time would be no different. He once again sat up, purposely using what little strength he had against her gentle push, letting her know that she had no choice in the matter.

"Thank you for your help," he repeated. "I'm sure I owe you my life. But my friend and I will not be a burden on your hospitality any longer."

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, planting bare feet on the rough wooden planks beneath the springs as he braced himself with his hands. Overpowering dizziness threatened to crumble his resolve, but he pushed away the need to lie back down and flung the hand sewn quilt off his lap.

She gasped and turned around before he realized he was naked. Frell. "Where are my clothes?" he asked more gruffly than he intended.

She'd made him this way; he refused to let her make him embarrassed now. Though he _was_ mortified to realize that she'd seen the mottled scar tissue that ran in a three dench wide line from his hip to his knee; it wasn't something he paraded around for others to notice. It was then that he pulled the blanket back over his lower half.

"Emmaline, who are you talking to?" a man's voice asked quietly from the doorway behind him. Turning his head too quickly, spikes of pain hammered through Aeric's skull.

He could tell his eyes were flinching under the strain of the pain, but he kept them open to observe this new development. The man speaking was an older gentleman; his hair a mixture of white, grey and brown, white being the prevalent color. Lines around his eyes spoke of hard labor and worry. His clothes were simple; brown trousers, tan tunic, work boots.

"As you can see, one of our guests has woken, Papa. He is insisting to take his friend and leave."

"Thank you Emmaline. Please leave us for a moment."

This did not sound well. Uneasiness pooled in the pit of Aeric's stomach and he had to force himself to sit still as the blond woman left without a backward glance. The older gentleman stepped into the small room and closed the door, keeping watchful eyes alert.

He paused momentarily, breathed in as if to say something, but remained silent briefly before finally speaking. "It would not be wise for you to venture from this home right now."

Aeric shook his head in disagreement, frustrated. "I appreciate your concern, but you don't understand the situation. I need to leave. Just tell me where my friend is and I'll be out of your way. Unless you've done something to him that you're not willing to tell me about."

He knew he was sounding defensive, but these people had been very vague about Laighn until now and he knew that a man with pale skin, grey lips and pink blood in this timeframe was at risk for people who could not accept those that were different. He would be declared a demon and killed, at best.

"Your friend is fine. He is in my room, resting. I have been tending to his needs, as best as I know them to be."

"You can't help him. I can. It's nothing personal, it's just that I have…" he paused, once again searching for the right words, "equipment that will aid him in his recovery."

"My name is Thomas Caruthers," the man introduced himself as he placed his hands in his pockets and slowly walked around the bed to Aeric. "I don't know who you are, or where you came from. To be truthful, I'm not even sure _what_ you are at this point." He dragged the wooden chair next to the young Crichton and sat, straddling the back and resting his arms over the rim of the backrest, maintaining direct eye contact. "I took a huge risk bringing you to my home."

"I understand your concern, that's why I'm trying to leave."

"Please," he said calmly. "Don't go yet. Stay here while you and your friend recover. I will help you retrieve whatever equipment is needed."

"Why?" the young man asked wearily. It was getting harder and harder to resist laying back down, but a man from the late nineteenth century shouldn't be this accommodating. There was an ulterior motive in here somewhere.

"You are right," Thomas answered the young man sitting on the bed, looking at him suspiciously. "I plan on asking you for a favor. But your agreement is not requisite for my hospitality, and you are free to say no. You are free to come and go as you wish. But I ask you to stay."

"What is the favor?" The injured man was having difficulty keeping his balance, but through sheer obstinacy, he remained at the edge of the bed.

"Now is not the time for that. Later. When you are healed."

---

Thomas was reacting on instinct, knowing that this stranger and his companion were the answer to all his troubles, but also knowing that they had no idea what they'd been sent here for. He'd spent much time over the last thirty hours praying and reading his bible. And no matter how he approached the problem, he always came back to the same answer. They were meant to help each other.

"I want to see Laighn. Now. Where are my clothes?"

He had to earn this young man's trust, and the only way was to give him the freedom he requested, even if it was detrimental to his health. Reluctantly, he stood from his chair and went to a trunk at the foot of the bed, retrieving the garments Emmaline had painstakingly washed, dried and mended earlier. "When you're ready, I'll show you to your friend."

Sighing, he turned and left the room, softly closing the door behind him.

---

Her heart was racing, and she just _knew_ that she was blushing. Her hands were shaking. How embarrassing! Why didn't her father warn her that he'd removed _all_ the man's clothes when he put him in the room? She'd spent many hours sitting in the chair knitting, making sure that he needed nothing, watching him.

He'd looked so peaceful when he was unconscious, but the moment his eyes were open, he was a mass of energy, turbulent and alert. His hair was a riotous mess, and she couldn't help but think that his personality was probably similar. And his eyes were the color of the sky on a cloudless day.

When he'd sat up and the blanket fell to his waist, showing her his torso in all its glory, she thought she was going to swoon. His shoulders were wide and his chest hard, his muscles obviously toned with frequent use. But it was also scarred. Long, thin trails crisscrossed over his chest and abdomen.

What had this man endured that left him so battered?

Her thoughts were interrupted by her father exiting the room with an indiscernible look in his eyes. He'd brought these strange men home yesterday with little explanation, but he'd seemed more determined and more hopeful than she'd seen in a long time. He had a new purpose.

"Is everything all right?"

He looked up at her sitting in her mother's rocker, almost surprised to see her. His smile was instantly set, reassuringly. Poor Papa. He thought she didn't know about his worries.

"Yes, Emmy. He will be coming out soon. He wants to see his companion."

She clamped her mouth in an effort to keep her opinion to herself. The young man was in no condition to move yet, and he would only make his injuries worse.

She didn't have to wait long before the door opened. The stranger leaned in the doorway, obviously bracing himself against a bout of dizziness while trying to get his bearings. His black shirt was disheveled, apparently thrown on in haste. He was wearing brown leather pants and his feet were bare. His eyes were watchful, scanning the room, briefly lingering on her before turning them back to her father.

"Laighn?" he asked simply.

Her father pointed to the appropriate door, and the man began his short trek. He wasn't fast, settling for a shuffle-drag method, but he staunchly made his way across the common room. He was cringing in pain, and she could stand it no longer.

Purposely, she stomped across the room and did the unthinkable; she put a man's arm… _a strange man's arm_… around her shoulders and leaned in a manner that would force him to put his weight on her. He tried to pull away, but at the moment she was stronger than he was and she held on.

And that was when her world changed. She had expected anger, an argument, or more resistance of some sort. Instead, he grinned. It was tarnished by his pain, but one side of his mouth quirked up and a small chuckle escaped his lips, and her heart was lost.

_Please Marcus, stay away a very long time. And please Papa, find a way to keep these men here long enough._

"You and my sister would get along very well," he told her breathily. "She was a bully too."

"What is her name?" she asked, guiding him across the room, eager to hear anything at all about him or his family. Family. Maybe he was already married. She felt as though she'd been kicked in the kidneys.

"Brennik," he told her.

"And what is _your_ name?"

He paused, as though reluctant to tell her. After a few steps, he drew in a haggard breath and responded. "Aeric Crichton."

They were at the door, so she didn't have time to question him further. Rather, she used the moment to roll the name around on her tongue. She loved his accent. He pronounced his name "Air-rick", and it had such a beautiful lilt.

The moment his eyes touched upon his companion, his mind was lost to her. He shrugged out of her hold and hobbled to the bed, sitting on the edge. "Laighn, you alive?" he asked, almost flippantly.

"Yl!erab," was the strange, low reply. "Etis sh!arc eth fo tuo eema rou!y grad ot dah I."

Aeric's friend made her nervous. With his pale skin and grey lips, he was unlike any man she'd ever seen before. But growing up on this farm, it wasn't as though she'd seen a whole world of men, either. Maybe he had a skin condition she'd never heard of. He was obviously foreign. She could only wonder what language he was speaking.

"Oh please. You just like making dramatic entrances," Aeric accused.

Laighn snorted and smirked. "En!o em ewo !ouy."

"More like five."

"Emit! sith ni evew dren fo e!lip a si sith. !Tey B nal!p a tog?"

"No," the man answered on a sigh. "Not yet. I'm working on it. How are you holding up?"

"K!cap dem eth tuoth!iw syad! erom elpuoc a rof ev!il lli !erugif I. gnithy!na esimor!rp tnac I that !retfa."

"Yeah, I though so. I'll take care of it."

Laign nodded, his eyes drooping. "N!am, sknath!. Ouy no! tnouc dlo!uc tnuoc no !ouy. His strength was depleted, and he slipped into unconsciousness.

Aeric stood, grimacing and holding his side, and began his shuffle-drag walk once again. "Where are my boots?"

"You're not planning on going anywhere?" she asked before she could monitor her words. What right, other the panic in her own chest, did she have to tell this man anything?

He looked tired; more than just the strain of his injuries, he looked weary, and worried. "Yes, I am." He took a few more steps. "If I don't, Laighn will die. I'm not going to let that happen."

She could see the resolution on his face, the determination as he moved steadily onward. There would be no dissuading him. But she had to try. "I'll go. Just tell me what you need, and I can retrieve-"

"No!" His answer was short, harsh. His face softened when his eyes met hers. "No, Emmaline. You cannot go for me. This is something I have to do."

The way her name came out of his mouth was soft, almost lilting, distracting her slightly from his gentle refusal. But she could be stubborn as well. Stepping to him, she pulled his arm around her shoulders and began to guide him again. "Then I will go with you."

"No." He didn't bark the rejection again, merely emphasized his point.

They were now in the common room, and she helped him to sit on a chair at their dining table. Papa had been quiet during this entire interlude, watching everything with careful eyes. But as she turned to retrieve the strange boots, she could hear him address Aeric.

"See reason, son. You don't know where you are going. You were unconscious when we brought you here. You could be searching for days, weeks even, for the objects you cannot see. You need a guide."

When Aeric closed his eyes and dropped his head, she could see his resignation. Her father, with a few well placed, wise words, had convinced him. She would guide him.

---

The trip had been long, slow going and exhausting. She'd made him stop frequently, much to his annoyance. But they'd finally arrived at the location her father had told her, and she was now standing at the edge of the new, small clearing, waiting for Aeric. He hadn't let her go any closer. In fact, he made her turn around and shut her eyes to the count of fifty.

And to her surprise, when she turned around, he was gone. She was alone. That never used to bother her. When Marcus was still living at the next farm over, she wandered these woods all the time by herself. For hours, she would explore and watch and wonder at the beauty of nature.

But all that had stopped several months ago when her father's friend left to visit the city, having to deal with some legal issues that had never been explained to her. After Marcus left, during one of her evening vigils, Mr. Standry and his men had approached her. She shivered with the memory of that unpleasant meeting, and nervously searched the surrounding trees.

"Well Miss Caruthers, isn't this a pleasant coincidence?" a low voice greeted her. Fear curled over her spine and she turned to face the man who'd been stalking her.

"Do you not have a farm to run?" she asked bravely, refusing to show how scared she really was that this man and three of his field hands were slowly approaching her.

"Don't worry," he assured her with a smile that turned her stomach. "I run a tight ship."

His brown cowboy hat hung low over his eyes and for some reason she couldn't understand, she couldn't help but notice how his brown mustache twitched at the sides of his mouth when he talked. She wanted to laugh, but she clamped down on the urge. She had to get rid of these men before Aeric came back. "Why are you on my father's land?"

"Well, ma'am," he said, stepping closer, into her space. Mr. Standry was taller than her and she had to lean back slightly to look him in the eye. But she refused to back up. She wouldn't give him an inch. "This will be my land soon, and I take care of what is mine."

Anger simmered in the pit of her belly, and she narrowed her eyes. She knew she was acting recklessly, she knew what he was capable of. She'd had a hard time explaining away the black eye to her father after the last encounter with this man, but something inside her wouldn't let her cower.

"Well, Mr. Standry, until _this land_ actually becomes yours, you can get off of it. Now."

As the last word left her lips, she felt her hair at the back of her head gripped in a vice, and her body slammed into Standry's. The sound of chambers being loaded echoed through her mind as her captor's other arm snaked around her, pinning her against his body. His mouth was a mere inch away from hers, and his breath washed over her face.

"I can make _you_ mine. _Right now_."

"Let her go," a voice commanded, and all five faces turned to see Aeric standing a few feet away, tall, strong, imposing.

He'd changed slightly. He was now wearing a brown leather vest, and strange guns were strapped to each thigh in holsters she'd never seen before. A satchel was hanging at his back by a strap flung over his chest and shoulders. His arms were crossed and he was looking directly at her tormentor.

Standry was only slightly surprised, and he didn't move. Nodding to his men, the three shotguns were redirected, and all were now pointing at Aeric's chest. "Well, if this isn't a surprise," her captor said conversationally, as if he didn't have her in an indecent hold. "I'm afraid you are not understanding the situation. This is my future wife. And you are imposing on something that is none of your business." His words became hard on that last sentence; an unspoken threat.

"Emmaline, do you want to be with this dren-faced fekkik?"

She had no idea what those words were, but she understood the general meaning and she shook her head. "No."

Before she could process what was happening, Aeric was beside them, one of his strange guns pushed against Mr. Standry's temple, the brown hat pushed up at an undistinguished angle.

---

Aeric was having a hard time maintaining this facade. His body was screaming at him and moving at all was costing him dearly. He hoped they couldn't see that his pulse pistol was shaking slightly.

"She said no, and my daddy taught me that no means no. Let her go," he said clearly, making sure that all of them could hear what he had to say. The bastard's arms dropped and Emmaline stepped away, relief etched over her face. She stepped behind Aeric, using him to shield herself from the antagonists.

"Tell your men to drop their weapons and kick them to me," he instructed. The man in charge nodded and three weapons were lowered, dropped, kicked. "Emmaline, get them." She did as he bid, gathering the weapons and holding them to her chest awkwardly. "Drop them over there," he indicated the location he wanted them, "and search the men for any more weapons."

Her head turned so fast, he was sure she would get whiplash, and her eyes were wide with shock. She gulped. "I… I-"

"Emmaline, you can do this. You need to search them. Unless you want to hold the pistol?" He'd be fair, he'd give her the option. He knew neither were to her liking, and that he was asking her to do things that were outside of her comfort zone.

She shook her head and approached the first man, gingerly looking in his gun holster and pulling out the pistol. Tossing it into the pile already on the ground, she was about to move on. "Check his waist, his legs, his armpits, his socks," Aeric instructed.

She gulped, but bravely nodded and proceeded to follow his directions. By the time she'd finished with the underlings and was approaching the man who'd attacked her, the timidity was wearing off and she was able to frisk him without hesitation.

"I'm done," she finally declared, proud of herself for finding the small arsenal that was now lying in a heap behind them.

"The three of you can clear out now," Aeric told them. "Don't turn around, don't look back. And don't ever come on this land again." He stepped closer to the boss, leaning in close to his ear. "And don't ever approach, look at, or think about Miss Caruthers again. You will not like what happens to you."

Glaring, all four men cautiously moved away. They retrieved horses that had been tethered out of site, and rode away. Aeric managed to stay upright until their hoof beats faded, but his body couldn't hold up any longer and he sank to his knees. And then his face met the earth.

"Aeric!" Emmaline yelled, and he heard her boots crunch over the mulch of the forest floor as she ran to his side. He first saw her skirts as she approached and knelt beside his head. "Aeric, no!" She was crying and he felt her fingers comb back his hair and move over his back, his shoulders, his arms.

She crouched low and her face became visible. Her hair was disheveled, barely any left in the bun. Her nose and eyes were red and puffy, and clear liquid streamed from her nostrils down to her mouth. Her whole face was scrunched, and he could feel the misery emanating off her.

And suddenly, he understood Sethya on a whole new level.

Damn.


	2. Chapter 2

"Emmaline, I'll be all right," he tried to assure her, but she only looked more confused.

"I don't understand you," she told him through her tears. "How do I help you?"

Oops. He'd accidentally addressed her in Sebacean. Or was he speaking Nebari that time? He was having a hard time focusing. "I'll be all right," he tried again. There. That should have been English. Or Luxan. It could have been either really, so he made an extra effort to look at her eyes for signs of comprehension. She looked slightly calmer, so he must have succeeded.

"We need to get you back to the house."

"Take the bag back to Laighn," he told her. "He'll know what to do."

"I'm not leaving you here," she insisted, leaning even closer.

"Are you strong enough to pick me up?" he asked bluntly.

"No, but-"

"Neither… am I… at the… moment. We… need help," he told her through ragged breath. "Take the bag to… Laighn. He won't… live much longer without… it. Get help and… come back for me."

He felt the bag being removed from his shoulders, and two small hands wrap around his wrists, pulling. He didn't budge much, but the force was insistent. Another tug, then another. He was slowly moving, dench by dench, and it frustrated him that he didn't have the strength to stop her.

He managed to stay awake long enough to realize that she'd dragged him under a tree and covered him with leaves and mulch. Cold metal pressed into his hand and her lips brushed against his ear.

"I gave you your gun. I'll be back as soon as I can."

He tried to remain conscious, but as she walked away he knew he was going to lose that battle. His head swam with dizziness and he could feel the scruff of his shirt being pulled tightly. His father's voice rang in his ear.

"Aeric, listen to me!"

"Dad!" he called. "I'm sorry."

The swirling in his head compounded and suddenly, he was there all over again.

_John Crichton was holding his 18 cycle old son tightly by the scruff of his shirt with a crazed look in his eye the boy had never seen in their five cycles together. It scared him, and it was taking all his control not to panic._

"_Aeric, I'm counting on you. We have less than a quarter of an arn for you to hide everyone. You know these tiers, you know the best hiding places. Now GO!"_

"_Dad, I'm staying and I'm fighting!" Aeric hollered, trying to loosen his father's hold, but the old man just grasped tighter, his grip unshakable._

"_We-can't-fight," John said, punctuating each word. "But we can survive. You've never dealt with Scorpy, Aeric. Trust your old man. He knows about Brennik, but he doesn't know about you and Dne and Eiyeth. Save them for me. Hide."_

_Aeric gulped, hating this feeling of helplessness, hating Scorpius for chasing them all over Tormented Space, hating that he was about to hide like a coward while his family faced a nightmare. But his father was right. He could protect the little ones. There were places to hide that not even John knew about._

"_All right," he told the old man, feeling the iron grip release. "Keep 'em busy as long as you can. I'm leaving behind comms so we can't be traced. Not even Pilot will know where we are."_

"_Thank you," he heard his father say, but he was already running from the room, intent on his mission._

_Microts later, he was in his brother's bedroom to find the raven haired boy sitting on his bed with his arms wrapped around knees that were pulled up to his chest. His bottom lip was quivering and he was scared._

"_Ae-ic!" the four-cycle-old called, leaping off the bed into his hero's arms._

"_Hey there, Slug!" Aeric greeted cheerfully, ripping the boy's comms device off his shirt and tossing it over his shoulder as he hitched the boy higher on his waist. "We're going to play a game."_

"_Ae-ic, I'm scared," the little boy confessed before jamming his thumb in his mouth and laying his head on his big brother's chest._

"_I know Dne, but there's nothing to worry about. We're going to play a hiding game. You like to hide, right?" He'd talked while he walked, and the two were now headed down the familiar corridor._

_He was acknowledged with a nod and he continued on until he was in his niece's room. She lay peacefully in her crib, sucking her tiny thumb, unaware of the danger around her. Gently lowering his little brother to the floor, he leaned over the railing of the crib that her father had hand crafted, and carefully lifted the tiny baby into his arms._

_This infant was the hope of Moya, the proof that life could go on in the worst of circumstances. Brennik and Sethya had wanted a child for cycles and this beautiful angel was their reward for patience._

_Eiyeth stirred slightly, but nuzzled in to her uncle's chest and immediately dropped into slumber once again. Breathing a sigh of relief, he maneuvered his bundle into a one arm hold and scanned the room for the emergency pack he knew would have been pre-packed. Brennik was prepared for everything._

_He found the massive bag in a corner and flung it over his shoulders so that the strap lay across his chest and the pack rested against his back. "come on, Slug. Let's get out of here. Ready to race?"_

"_Yeah!" the little boy responded enthusiastically._

"_Here's the rules, though. We're playing hide and seek, so we have to be as quiet as possible. Think you can do that?"_

"_But what about my comms? I'm not allowed to pway hide and seek without my comms, Mommy said."_

"_It's all right this time, I promise. We're going to hide together." He had maneuvered his brother out of the room, and the little group was jogging through the halls._

"_All right!" Dne cheered, to be shushed._

_Aeric thought he saw the eyestalks of a DRD down a side corridor, but it disappeared quickly. Good. Pilot was redirecting anything that might record their progress. Good man, Pilot._

_With a baby in one arm, a small hand clutched in his own, and a bag that would carry enough supplies for an army for a monen, his progress wasn't nearly as fast as he wanted or needed. But at last he found the small hole he'd been looking for and ducked down to the floor to peer inside the child sized opening in Moya's corridor, motioning to his little brother._

"_Dne, what I am about to show you is a secret. No one can ever know about this place, all right?" Solemnly the little boy nodded, thrilled that he was being told a secret by one of the grown-ups. "Can you be brave?" Again, the boy nodded._

_Aeric maneuvered the bag off his shoulders, placing it beside the hole. He motioned to the little boy, who crawled in enthusiastically. "It's dawk!" was the small cry from behind the wall._

"_I know Slug. But I'm right here. Now I have a big job for you, do you think you can help me?"_

"_Yes!"_

"_I'm going to push baby Yethy through the hole, wrapped in her blanket. I need you to pull her into the hole with you, far enough for me to crawl in. Can you do that?"_

"_Yes, Ae-ik!"_

_Gently, he wrapped the baby tighter in her blanket and placed her on the floor, sliding the small bundle through the hole into the darkness. When she disappeared farther, he lay on his stomach, feet facing the hole and slid in backwards. The fit was tight, and he had to bend his legs at an awkward angle in his efforts._

_His shoulders got stuck, and he was beginning to get worried, but when he felt a hard tug on his pants from small hands trying to help, he doubled his efforts. His shirt was ripped at the armpits, but he was inside… if contorted into inhuman dimensions. With more effort, he maneuvered himself into a tolerable position and pulled the bag through._

_Almost done. Feeling around on the wall, he found the one item that might save their lives. It was a thin, flexible, large, metallic piece that fit over the hole perfectly. He'd discovered this small miracle on one of the planets they'd visited shortly after arriving in Tormented space. He positioned the metal over the hole, completely immersing the small group into blackness._

_Dne whimpered slightly, but stayed quiet and still after placing his small hand on his brother's leg. Aeric gently rubbed the metal against the inner wall, and he could feel the warmth under his fingers, letting him know that even after all these cycles of neglect, this metal would still fuse to Moya's biological material. No one but Aeric could remove it now, it having been coded with his DNA. And none of the peacekeepers should ever realize that there was a hole large enough to crawl through here._

_He felt in the darkness for Eiyeth and pulled her into his arms, grateful that she had managed to sleep peacefully during the transition. But he could feel her starting to grow restless, and he knew they didn't have much time. But they still had far to travel._

"_Dne, get behind the bag and push," Aeric whispered. "No matter what happens, do not let go of the bag, all right?" There was a small moment of silence without an answer. "I can't see you Slug. You need to whisper your answer."_

"_All wight," the young voice squeaked quietly._

"_You're being very brave," he told the child as he began to walk, dragging the bag with one hand and holding his niece in the other. "I'm very proud of you._

_The tunnel was small, both walls were touching his arms as he walked, and he was hunched over slightly. It wasn't long before he developed a crick in his back. Every few steps he'd whisper "You there Slug?" to confirm that his little brother was following. _

_It had been cycles since he'd traveled this secret route to his special room, and he hoped that Moya hadn't closed it off with disuse. They walked so long, that Aeric was beginning to wonder if he'd taken a wrong turn somewhere, but at last the hallway opened up, and he could feel the open room, even if he couldn't see it._

"_Come here Dne," he told his brother and waiting until the little boy stumbled into him. "Sit right here, cross-legged." He could tell that the boy had done as bid, and placed Eiyeth in his lap, positioning the boy's arms around the bundle. "Hold Yethy close you, all right?" There was a small silence. "I can't see you Dne. You need to speak to me."_

"_I'll hold her good, like Bwenn showed me."_

_Worried, but not knowing of any other option, Aeric stepped away and began feeling the walls with both hands, methodically covering every dench. It had to be around here somewhere. At last, his hands crossed over the sweet spot, and dim light flooded into the room, blinding him momentarily._

_But when his eyes focused, he was satisfied. The room was exactly as he had left it. There was a waste funnel in one end that also had a tap for fresh water. His boxes of food cubes that he'd bartered for on Thaxaclndrin Grot were neatly stacked, and his mattress was still comfortably disheveled with several blankets. And leaning against the wall, beaten up and slightly dented, was his skateboard._

_He sighed with satisfaction, feeling cautiously optimistic for the first time in two solar days, when one thought slammed into his mind. How the frell was he supposed to know when it was all right to come out of hiding_

"Aeric." _The light disappeared, leaving the room bathed in inky blackness so thick he could feel it pressing against his skin, soaking his clothing. This was wrong! It didn't happen this way!_

"Aeric!"

_The voice was an eerie mixture of Scorpius and John, calling to him, one with glee, the other with torment. Eiyeth began screaming and he tried to rush to her, to help Dne, but his feet had fused to the metal on the floor and he couldn't move, couldn't help._

"_Dne, bring her to me!" he called over the sound of the baby's cries._

"Aeric!" _the voice called again as panic began to override all of the young man's senses._

"_I can't!" the little boy cried out, sobbing along with the baby._

"_Bring her to me!" Aeric called again, desperate not to let Scorpius get near the children. He could protect them, somehow, if he could just get them closer._

"_I can't Ae-ic!" the little boy repeated, terrified._

"Aeric!" _the voice called from behind as awful pressure shoved on his chest._

_He gagged, hardly able to breathe, and one wall exploded outward as blinding light flooded the small compartment._

"_No!" he screamed, reaching for his little brother and his niece, grasping at air. "You can't have them!"_

_He gagged, and the pressure on his chest was now unbearable, as though it were going to cave in on itself. The light grew brighter, and two hands reached through the cavernous opening, pulling on him, taking him away._

_He'd promised his father he'd protect them, he had to fight._

"Aeric, you will not die! Live, frell you! Wake up!"

Laighn. That was Laighn's voice.

His lungs exploded with fire, and he gasped with the sudden inhalation of warm air. Moya melted around him as he turned over and gagged into the mulch of the forest floor, trying to empty an already empty stomach. His body was shuddering uncontrollably, but he could feel his muscles trying to compensate. At last, the tremors were merely small twitches, and he was rolled onto his back. Laighn's familiar, pasty face appeared in his vision, looking strained and gaunt.

"You lived," Aeric grunted weakly, glad to see his friend alive, if not completely well.

"So did you," the half-breed answered with labored breath, flopping beside him on the ground, and using the half-human torso as an armrest. "We're going to kill ourselves if we keep trying to save each other like this."

Aeric chuckled, wincing with the pain. "We're going to be stuck here for a little while until we can get the module running again."

"So it can be fixed?"

Aeric nodded, regretting the movement as pain reminded him he had a concussion. Other sensations were beginning to emerge, and he realized he was cold. And that there was a sharp rock pressing into his back. And there were leaves in his underwear. And he had to pee. "Where's Emmaline?" he asked. She must have made it back safely, Laighn wouldn't be standing here if she hadn't.

His friend grunted. "She didn't like me coming here. For someone who can't understand a word I say, she can conduct a decent argument."

"She's a good woman," Aeric observed.

"Yes she is."

"Where is she?"

"Right there, listening to every word we say."

"What the frell! You let me ramble on about the…"

"Relax. You've been talking in a combination of Sebacean, Scarran and Hynerian. Badly, I might add. She can't understand a word you're saying. What is it with you and languages, anyway?"

Aeric shrugged slightly, unable to accomplish more movement than that. "I like 'em." Then, "How are we getting back to the farmhouse?" in English.

"I brought a wagon," Emmaline answered, stepping closer now that she could understand. She looked nervous and distant, hesitant.

"Thank you Emmy," he said gratefully. "You're a life saver."

Her entire demeanor softened and a small, relieved smile appeared. He'd said the right thing. Now he just had to figure out how he was going to get both him and Laighn into the wagon.

---

The wagon jostled with every little rock or stick it bumped over, and Aeric was feeling it through his screaming muscles. He looked over at Laighn to see his friend sitting as still as possible with his jaw clenched tightly, and knew the half Nebari wasn't in any better condition. They both needed an entire day to sleep, and a round of the medication in the med pack to get better. They'd still be sore, but they wouldn't be as bad off as they were now.

Riding in silence, Aeric found that his mind kept wandering back to the memory he'd relived while buried under the leaves and mulch. The feeling of helplessness and panic still hadn't left him completely, and it concerned him since he'd overcome his nightmares cycles ago. It shouldn't resurrect the old dreams, he consoled himself. His foray into the past hadn't come close to the way reality had played out. The lights didn't go out, Eiyeth never screamed as though death were stalking her, and he wasn't pulled away involuntary. In fact, the heart stopping terror didn't actually happen for another monen when-

"We're almost there, hang on just a little longer," Emmaline said from the high wooden seat in front of them, interrupting his thoughts.

She had wonderful timing, and he blessed her in his heart. He didn't want to travel down that familiar road right now. He never would, if he had anything to say about it. Some things were better forgotten.

"Tell me the deal with that creep back there. Are you really engaged to him?" Aeric asked.

Now was as good a time as any to get information about the people they would be staying with, who had taken them into their home so graciously. He didn't think Thomas was the type of man to force his daughter to marry someone like that rancher, but this was a different time and an unfamiliar world. He wasn't going to take anything for granted.

"No, I'm not," Emmaline stated emphatically, and his heart seemed to relax slightly. "That was Douglas Standry, and he owns most of the land in this region. He wants all of it. He's been after Marcus's and Papa's land for years, but we've managed to hold him off."

"Who's Marcus?"

"Our neighbor. He's an older man, a widower who lives out there by himself. Our properties border each other, about five miles from here. He and my dad came out here with their young brides together. Mr. Standry's land borders both of ours. Marcus went away about six months ago to the city, and he hasn't returned yet. And since we helped each other every year before this, the crops are taking longer to get in.

"We'd hire some help, but Standry has this entire region running scared. We've been blackballed. We can't even purchase supplies in the nearest general store, he owns it. We have to go to the next town over, which is farther away and leaves our land open for sabotage while we're away."

Aeric was beginning to get the picture. Thomas was looking at losing everything, including his daughter. Well, the old man had been up front with him earlier that day, he'd told him that he was going to ask for a favor, and now he knew what that favor was. Aeric breathed a sigh of relief.

On the scale of things demanded of him that had to be one of the easiest requests ever. He could stick around for a couple of months and help the Caruthers save their farm. It was going to take that long just to fix his module, the least he could do was earn his keep while he stayed.

Having settled everything in his mind to his satisfaction, he closed his eyes and tried to sleep through the battering the wagon was inflicting on him. It wasn't a very successful attempt.

---

Aeric stood there next to Laighn staring at nothing. Specifically, they were staring at a very important nothing, one they were glad had managed to _stay_ nothing. A chilly breeze picked up and Aeric felt the bumps rise on his arms as the branches and leaves rustled around them.

"I'll say it again Aeric," Laighn told him with a suitable amount of awe and respect. "That's a mighty fine piece of tech work you got there. Tean will be jealous when he finds out that your invisibility cloak withstood atmospheric entry _and_ crash."

"No he won't, he's the one who told me to reinforce it with the Bvorckian Heldion shield." Aeric shrugged, knowing that when and if they ever made it back to Moya, the ex peacekeeper tech officer would be impossible to live with.

Inwardly cringing with the thought of telling his crewmate that he'd been right, he stepped forward and began feeling for the entry latch. The last time he'd searched for it, the mechanism had been right about… _here_. He breathed a sigh of relief with the familiar "whoosh" of the door opening, and motioned to his co-pilot that he'd found the entrance.

Looking around to make sure no one was watching, he opened the heavy metal encasing and peered inside. Everything was just as he'd left it three solar days ago, a complete disaster. Gingerly, he stepped inside far enough for Laighn to follow and heard the click of the door closing behind him. They were back in their own element.

"Huh," his friend said. "Looks like your quarters."

"Shut up."

This was his baby, and it broke his heart to see her torn apart like this. Every knob, every curve, every panel in this machine represented countless arns of his time. He'd poured both blood and sweat into her, and she'd nearly died on her first real mission out. Patting a curved rib, he consoled her. "I'm sorry girl. You did real good. We'll get you fixed up in no time, you'll see."

At the edge of his peripheral vision he saw Laighn roll his eyes, but he ignored him. Genius was often misunderstood.

"You said she was fixable?" his companion asked doubtfully.

"Yes," he answered with determination. "She is."

"How."

"Because I've prepared. I've glanced over most of the systems and the structure, which held up very well I might add, and we have replacement parts for everything."

"Convenient."

"Forethought. I know what kind of luck we have. We have almost enough spare parts for a second ship."

Sighing, he glanced around the cargo room, noticing Laighn's eyes fixed on a medium sized box, dented and laying sideways against the far wall… on the opposite side of the room than where it has commenced this journey.

"Wasn't that thing bolted down?" the half Nebari asked, avoiding the real question- the question that truly mattered.

"Yeah," Aeric answered, just as unwilling to cross that hurtle yet.

If that box didn't protect the device inside, everything they were going through was pointless. Swallowing the dread, he stepped over and tried to push the container upright, but just as before, it was too heavy for one person. And he wasn't back at full health yet, either.

"Wimp," he heard Laighn mutter as he joined him, squatting on the long end, putting his hands under the burden.

"One… two… three!" Aeric counted and they both hefted with all the limited strength they could muster.

Slowly it tipped until finally, it slammed upright. With trepidation, the young Crichton pushed the security code on the access panel. The latches popped and a cloud of white smoke drifted from within. With shaking hands, he tipped the lid upward, both faces peering inside.

There they sat, nestled in the containment foam, seemingly unharmed. Gently, Aeric reached in and pulled out the top, long, ovular object. One side was clear material, the other a shiny silver, with a number pad embedded on one edge. He peered inside to find the yellowish red flower laying peacefully in suspended animation. One by one, he then inspected the all ten devices, sighing with relief when he couldn't find any discrepancies.

"We're all right," he said and heard Laighn thump the small distance to the floor, falling off his heals he'd been resting on.

He was sitting on the floor, trying to regulate his breathing. "So we're still good."

"Yes."

There was a moment of silence as each of them sat there trying to calm their beating hearts. There was hope. They hadn't failed yet. Lying inside this mechanical cocoon was the answer to cycles of degradation and oppression. It was the savior of Earth's future. And it had survived. Hope. Hold tight to it. Treasure it. Protect it at all costs.

"Come on," Laighn said, standing up and pulling at a fallen crate. "Let's get this started."

---

"And that is how we came to own this farm," Papa was saying between mouthfuls.

Aeric and Laighn were sitting at the table with them, sharing supper. It had been three days since they'd woken, and they'd healed at a miraculous rate. They had even helped her father in the fields today, managing to get all of the corn planted.

Both of the men were eating with an enthusiastic gusto that worried Emmaline. Provisions were running low, and if something wasn't done soon, they would be out of food before the end of the month. If she ate less, they could stretch out another day or two. Every little bit helped.

"Emmaline, this is really good!" Aeric exclaimed, stuffing another forkful in his mouth. "What do you call it?" Laighn was nodding his head in agreement with a full mouth, chewing with enthusiasm.

She knew one of her eyebrows went up, but she couldn't seem to control it. "Beef stew," she answered. Honestly, who never heard of Beef stew? "Where are you two from?" she asked as casually as she could. "Tell us a little about yourself."

She tried not to sound as though she were interrogating him, but was afraid she hadn't accomplished that goal when he froze with a fork halfway to his mouth, a pained look in his eyes. Laighn coughed, and for a few moments, the only sound was the pale man trying to control his breathing.

"I'm sorry," she said, embarrassed. "I don't mean to pry."

Aeric and Laighn had regained their composure, though the pale man kept darting looks at his friend, obviously conveying a message that she didn't understand.

"How about I tell you a story instead?" the Aeric asked, wiping his face with a napkin and settling back in his seat. He wiggled his eyebrows and her heart flipped for the millionth time that day. "You like it, it has everything; adventure, love, pirates."

"What a wonderful idea!" Thomas said enthusiastically, standing up and beginning to clear away the dishes. "If you would be willing to wait until Emmaline and I clear this mess."

She was surprised when both of the men stood and began to help clear away the mess, and she had to admit that the kitchen was spotless in record time. Soon, they were all settled in the common room around the fire.

The light danced over Aeric's face, and she watched as his thoughts traveled elsewhere, to his world of romance and pirates. She wondered if he even knew where he was at that moment. Softly, he cleared his throat and began.

_Once upon a time, there was a man named John Crichton. He was an explorer and a scientist. He invented something wonderful, but he had to test his invention offshore, in a small boat. Unfortunately for him, when he was just out of sight of land, a horrible storm tore down on him, throwing him and his small boat far out into the ocean.  
_

Her heart started beating erratically as she found herself pulled into poor John's plight. Aeric was weaving a spell that she had no desire to resist. Willingly, she closed her eyes and let herself get lost in the tale.

_  
Miraculously, he survived. But he found himself in a distant land, where everything was different than what he had always known. The people and customs were strange. He found himself in a precarious situation. The chief of a small island wanted to execute him, but a beautiful warrior woman stood up and defended John. That act marked her for death as well.  
_

_Together, Aeryn, John and some new friends managed to escape, but they found themselves fugitives, traveling from island to island, trying to stay one step ahead of death. At one of the islands, another chief named Scorpius found out that John was an inventor, and that he had a secret knowledge that could be used for wonderful greatness, or complete, dominant power. Scorpius wanted to use John to build a magnificent weapon. _

_John was captured and tortured for his knowledge, but he wouldn't tell his secret. He escaped with the help of Aeryn and their friends, and they traveled for many years on the ocean, trying to evade Scorpius._

_John and Aeryn fell in love, eventually married and shortly after, had a beautiful little girl named Brennik. About a year after Brennik was born, someone from Aeryn's past, angry that she had chosen to live her life with John and their friends on their ship, kidnaped her and made it look like she was dead. John was left to raise their daughter by himself._

_He was heartbroken, bereft, and he decided to find a small island and raise their little girl without knowledge of her past, of the enemies that still chased them. He said goodbye to his friends, changed his appearance, bought a small farm, and for many years lived peaceably._

_What he didn't know was that Aeryn was still alive. She had suffered an injury and couldn't remember her past anymore. Sold into slavery, she had to bear their second child, a son, all by herself. So for nearly thirteen cy-years, the two parents lived apart from each other, neither realizing that they didn't need to be alone._

_The legend of John Crichton never died, and when Brennik's identity as his daughter became known, Scorpius started a new manhunt for her, sure that she would be born with the knowledge her father had kept secret. John contacted his old friends and once again, the family was sailing in the same ship that had been their home for so long._

_Then a miracle happened. One day, while the small crew was docked in a new harbor, they found John's son. The resemblance between the boy and his father was absolute. They freed him and his mother from slavery, but Aeryn still didn't remember them._

_They had to travel a very long distance, fighting pirates and crash landing on the right island to find a doctor who could heal her, and still the return of her memory was slow. But even without knowing her past, she still loved John. She held onto that, and they slowly started to build a future together._

"Did they live happily ever after?" she couldn't help but ask. After all that poor family had gone through, after all they'd fought for, they deserved happiness.

Aeric paused in his thoughts, considering his answer carefully. "Happily in each moment. Some days are better than others. You take what you can get."

It was a beautiful, poignant, sad story, and she realized that she wanted a moment to remember the tale on her own, to consider these people that Aeric had talked about as if they were real.

"Thank you Aeric, for a lovely story. I think that I will retire now, though. I'm feeling tired tonight."

All three men stood as she did and she waved for them to sit, smiling. "Goodnight Papa," she told him, kissing his cheek. "Goodnight Aeric. Goodnight Laighn."

"Goodnight," Aeric told her.

"Tgh!indog Emmaline," Laighn said, bowing slightly.

With a light heart, she left the room, anxious to lay in her bed and dream of exotic warrior women and strange places with new things. She had no doubt that Aeric had given her a piece of himself, though she knew not which piece yet. Maybe, with enough time, he would share more with her.

---

The muted thumps of Aric's boots pounding in the dirt became nearly rhythmic as he paced in front of the farmhouse, waiting. He didn't like this situation at all. In fact, he hated it. But there was no other answer. Pulling the borrowed hat lower over his eyes, he turned to glance at the door, only to find it unmoving. Frell, he hated this.

He and Thomas were about to ride for three days to the nearest settlement for supplies, the farm was nearly desolate of provisions. Aeric still felt the same anger swirl through his middle as the moment he discovered that Emmaline hadn't been eating to make the rations stretch farther. That frustrating woman had been hoping this Marcus character would show up, and they would all be fine.

The displaced Moyans had lived on this land, sleeping on hay in the barn, for fourteen solar days now, and he was discovering that farming wasn't as bad as he remembered it. (Of course, a person could enjoy their work more when the threat of a slave-masters beating wasn't looming over him... and when he came home every night to the face of a beautiful woman smiling at him.) During the day, they'd help Thomas plant his crops and tend to his animals. After supper, he and Laighn would work on the module, but progress was slow.

And then he found out how dire the situation was, which had brought about his insistence that this trip happen. Thomas needed to drive into town; he was the one who knew the way, knew how to drive the wagon and tend to the horses. Aeric was to be his point man, which left Emmaline and Laighn at the farm, alone, with Douglas Standry watching and waiting for his opportunity.

He wanted to clone himself so he could be in two places at once. It wasn't that he didn't trust Laighn, or think he was capable of watching over Emmaline effectively, but while he was away, he wouldn't _know_ what was happening. He wouldn't i_be there/i_ to make sure nothing happened to her.

The familiar creak of the door hinges interrupted his fuming, and he turned to see his friend headed toward him. "Thomas is bringing the wagon around now."

"Laighn, move into the house tonight," he whispered in Sebacean. He didn't want to take the slightest chance that Emmy could hear, or understand him.

"That's not going to go down well with Emmaline, Aeric. They've got some weird customs here about reputation. Are you sure you want to do that to her?"

"I'd prefer she be alive with a bad reputation than dead, or raped. Standry is waiting for his chance. He might wait a night or two, but he'll be here for her. Take care of her."

Laighn patted his friends' shoulder reassuringly. "Don't worry, she'll be all right."

The door creaked again as the wagon pulled around, and Emmaline was now standing on the porch, looking at them curiously. "You two look like you're plotting something," she said with a smile.

He pulled off his hat and stepped closer to her. He could reach out and touch her from where he was, but he held the hat with both hands, twirling the brim in his fingers. "I told Laighn to move into the house tonight."

Her eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms over her chest, causing her breasts to be pushed up higher. Aeric was now having a hard time listening as she scolded him. "This isn't your house to make that decision."

"No, but you're m-" he said before he caught himself. He paused, rewording his argument. "You'll be safer with him under the same roof."

"I am not a helpless waif," she said succinctly, obviously angry over his high-handedness.

"Please Emmy," he asked quietly. "Do this for me. I'll feel better knowing he's inside with you." He wasn't playing fair, and he knew it.

He'd been watching her carefully over the last fourteen days, and he was learning her habits. And he had figured out fairly quickly that when he called her Emmy, she couldn't stay mad at him. He looked at her pleadingly, and he knew the moment her face relaxed slightly that she'd relented. Victory. "Thank you."

She nodded. "Papa is waiting for you. Have a safe trip."

"You be safe as well."

"I'll see you in six days."

He nodded, feeling awkward. Slapping the wide brim hat against his leg, he headed for the wagon and climbed inside. He was pretty proud of himself. He only turned to look back once.


	3. Chapter 3

(One of my readers recently reminded me that I never fully updated all my stories here on FFN. I had no idea that the final chapters of this story had never been uploaded to here. I truly apologize. I post everything at farscapefluffybunnies and terrafirmascapers, and everything I write can be found in it's entirety on those two sites. This story has illustrations that I love, that I cannot upload here.)

Chapter 3

Emmaline watched them drive away with a pasted on smile and a heavy heart, until Aeric turned and looked back at her. His expression showed regret, wistfulness, and it filled her with hope that maybe he was beginning to care for her. In her dreams, he loved her deeply and asked her to marry him. She knew he would eventually leave, but she could still pray and hope that he would choose to stay.

Marcus was a good man, but he was nearly old enough to be her father. The widower had agreed to the marriage as a favor to a dear friend. He would not be heartbroken if she married someone else. Truthfully, he'd probably be relieved to be free of the burden.

But at the moment, she was alone on her farm with a strange man she couldn't understand. "Well Laighn," she said, not really expecting any kind of response, but unable to stop herself. "I guess you'd better grab your gear and put it my father's room before we get started today."

"Yes ma'am," he said as he bowed slightly, startling her.

"So you _do_speak English," she accused, irritated that he would hide that fact all this time.

"No ma'am," he answered, walking away from her toward the barn as she'd instructed.

"But you understand me."

He stopped and turned toward her with a mischievous smile and a wink. "Yes ma'am."

Her eyes narrowed as she considered the situation. "How?" So much didn't make sense about these men.

The pale man merely shrugged. "S!ti dellac rotals!nart seborcim. E!es, yeth ezin-"

She couldn't help but laugh at his cheekiness. "All right, all right. I get it. It's 'yes ma'am' and 'no ma'am'."

"Yes ma'am."

"Well, at least they taught you how to be polite."

It was his turn to start laughing and he pointed at himself, shaking his head. "No ma'am." He turned and walked away then, as she had previously instructed.

Maybe the next six days wouldn't be so bad after all.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The wagon moved steadily forward with the team of horses plodding along diligently in front. Thomas wasn't given to idle chatter, and the only sounds for the last arn were the clomp of the horses hooves on the dirt road, the rattle and squeak of the vehicle, and the churn of the wooden wheels on the dirt road.

It was their third morning of traveling, and the prospect of reaching town soon brightened Aeric's mood considerably. The entire trip, he'd been having trouble keeping his thoughts away from the first time he'd ever ridden in a wagon, and it wasn't a memory he liked to relive. He was thirteen cycles old, and it was the day he'd killed a person for the first time. He'd saved his mother and father from a psychotic woman who was bent on Aeryn's destruction, but it was something he promised himself he would never do again.

He laughed slightly at his younger self and the naiveté he'd been stripped of. That was one promise destined for failure with the legacy he'd been born with.

Thomas cleared his throat and flicked the reins, pulling the young man from his reverie. "Aeric…" he began, "I need to talk to you."

"All right," he answered, sitting back on the bench and adjusting the unfamiliar shotgun on his lap. He hoped the thing shot the same as a pulse rifle; he'd been lucky that they hadn't needed it yet.

The old man cleared is throat again, signaling that this was going to be difficult for him. "Remember the day you woke up, and I told you that I would be asking for a favor?"

"Yes," Aeric said, nodding. He should elaborate and tell the guy that it was all right; he'd help him on the farm until it was time to go, but something held him back.

"This is hard for me." Thomas paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "I meant what I said about my hospitality not being contingent on your acceptance."

Those were some big words for a back-woods farmer. Aeric almost didn't understand them, and he wondered what had caused such a well educated man to choose to live in the middle of nowhere, slaving away, earning his living with the sweat of his brow.

"Iwantyoutomarrymydaughter," the man said so quickly that not only could Aeric not follow it in English, but the translator microbes didn't even try.

"I'm sorry, say that again?"

Thomas paused and red color crept up his ears. "I want you to marry my daughter."

Aeric froze; surely he'd heard that wrong. "I think my limited English is failing me. Could you repeat that one more time?"

"No young man, you heard right. I'm asking if you'll marry my daughter."

xxxxxxx

Midmorning of the third day of Aeric and Papa being gone was the day Emmaline had dreaded. She was in the yard hanging the laundry, singing softly to herself and dreaming of Aeric with his blue eyes and his smile that made her stomach flip every time he turned it on her, when the glare of sun glinting off metal caught her attention.

Searching the woods that surrounded the house, a glimpse of a rider disappeared behind a tree. Instantly, she dropped the sheet she'd been hanging into the basket at her feet and ran for the barn. Femininity forgotten, her skirts were held tightly in her fists as they pumped back and forth, her feet stretching long strides as she sprinted.

Her breath was heaving as she ran through the open door, desperately seeking the one man within twenty miles that she trusted. He'd been the perfect gentleman during their time together, and they had even started teaching each other their own languages. They were developing a friendship, something she'd never really had before, and she had no doubt he would do everything in his power to help save this situation. Aeric had left him here for that very purpose, hadn't he?

"Laighn!" she whispered forcefully, storming through the building, scanning each stall. "Laighn!"

"Yes ma'am?" he asked, stepping from behind a wall holding a rake.

"Shhhhh!" she scolded, almost as loudly as he had spoken. "They'll hear you!"

His face was instantly alert with concern and he dropped his rake, hurrying to the door and cautiously peering out. Whatever he saw, he pulled his head back into the barn and turned to her with a look on his face she couldn't understand. This carefree, lighthearted man was suddenly hard, his face set, his body tense, his whole demeanor commanding.

Pulling a finger to his lips, he signaled that they needed to be quiet. She nodded her understanding. He pointed to her, then pointed to the ground. Then he pointed to the door and shook his head. Again, she nodded that she understood. He wanted her to stay here. That was fine by her, she couldn't be of any help to him anyway.

But staying in the barn didn't mean that she wasn't entitled to see what was happening. Stealthily, she snuck to the wall facing the house and peered out of the small window. What she saw made her heart stop beating and fly into her throat. Laighn had a death wish!

xxxxxxx

How the frell was Aeric supposed to answer that? The request threw him so off balance that he was stunned into silence, unable to form any kind of reply. The sound of the wheels crunching over the dirt mixed with the rhythmic plodding of the horses, punctuating the lack of conversation.  
"I know it's a strange request. I can only tell you that I feel that it is the right thing. I have spent many, many hours considering this."

"I'm sorry, Thomas. I can't," Aeric answered, feeling his throat closing on him. He wanted to say yes. He wanted to hug the old man and say thank you.

"I know that she's older, she's already twenty three years old. But that isn't her fault; she hasn't had a chance to meet young men of her own age. Standry has every eligible man within thirty miles-"

"That isn't it," Aeric said, stopping the old man before he could continue. "Where I come from, she's just barely getting to marriageable age. But I'm not staying, I have to go home. People are relying on me."

"Are you already married?" Thomas asked.

"No."

"Then please, I ask you to reconsider. Take her with you, she has nowhere else to go, and I will not be around forever to take care of her. She'll be all alone."

Aeric breathed in deeply, considering carefully his reply. He framed a few different answers in his mind before he decided to just be honest. "Laighn and I are soldiers, Thomas. We're in the middle of a war. We're on a mission that may save millions of lives if we are successful. We have enemies who will never stop pursuing us until we, and everyone we love, is dead. If Emmaline were to come with us, she would live her life as a target on an endless battlefield. So you see, I can't stay. And I can't take her with me. No matter how much I might want to."

"So you are beginning to care for her?" Thomas asked.

He took another deep breath, expelling it slowly through his teeth. "Yes."

Several more moments of silence elapsed, and Aeric figured Thomas was coming to terms with the disappointment.

"I'm dying," he said at last.

The young man's head whipped around so fast that his neck popped, and he searched the old man's face. There was no deceit, only resignation. He couldn't continue to look at the sadness etched over his companion's features, so he diverted his eyes to the passing foliage. Aeric's heart started to beat faster, and he was finding it difficult to breathe.  
"Are you sure?" he managed to ask. The other man simply nodded. "How long do you have left?"

"I don't know. But my body has been slowly shutting down on me. I try to hide it from Emmaline, but she's beginning to suspect."

"What will she do when you are gone?" Aeric asked stupidly. Didn't Thomas just say she wouldn't have anyone?

"If Marcus hasn't returned by then, she won't have any choice but to marry Standry. He's wanted her for years. This land dispute isn't about the land, but don't tell Emmaline that. When she was fourteen, that man came and tried to buy her from me. I told him no, something he's not accustomed to hearing, and he's done his absolute best to force my hand ever since."

"Why can't she hire a few men and work the place herself? She doesn't need a husband to run that farm. She's intelligent and hardworking-"

"You're not from around here Aeric, remember?" Thomas reminded. "It doesn't work that way. When I am gone, she'll lose everything. Standry will make sure she has no other option but to turn to him."

"That's ridiculous!" Aeric exploded. "What kind of stupid, ignorant-"

"Whoa, hold on there!" the old man interrupted. "I can't understand you anymore, you've reverted back to that other language."

"I'm sorry. So she'll lose the farm," young Crichton said, trying to stay calm. "Let's turn around, go back and get both Laighn and Emmaline. We'll get you to a doctor, and we'll get her settled in the town... find her a job."

"There is nowhere else for her to go. The only way she'll survive out here is if she gets married. Or turns to the brothels for help."

There was no way out of this. He couldn't marry her. He couldn't leave her here to her own devices to try to deal with that dren faced son of a bastard. There was no answer to this situation… yet. His mind began to turn over all the scenarios, all the possibilities, all the stupid, outlandish answers. As the wagon slowly moved forward over the lonely dirt road, his mind continued to turn.

There was a way out of this. He would find it.

xxxxxxx

Near the house, five riders had stopped and hitched their horses to the porch railing. They were gruff looking men, obviously here on Standry's orders. They were the kind of men he usually employed to handle the unpleasant tasks he needed accomplished.

Laighn had quietly turned the corner of the barn, staying close to the wall and going unseen so far. He reached up to the belt around his waist and flicked his wrist. To Emmaline's surprise, the belt easily fell loose and long at the man's side, one end held tightly in his right hand. He reached over with his left hand, and magically, the belt split into two, leaving a long whip in each hand.

He stepped away from the barn, carefully watching the intruders, and began to spin the whips in his hands. They made a quiet hum as they gained momentum, spinning beside him and in front of him as his hands twitched them in whatever direction he wanted. They were now a blur and he slowly walked closer to the thugs.

_SNAP! SNAP!_

Two men dropped unconscious to the ground, falling off their horses as the other three men turned in their saddles, startled to find the pale man with the fierce whips daring to oppose them. The two whips were in constant motion, spinning and twirling with the soft hum announcing their intent. His eyes were searching, watchful, sizing up the situation and calculating every person's next move.

Three hands reached for their respective sidearm, and the whips lashed out. She didn't have a great view from this angle, but she saw the whips wrap around two separate gun hands, and the men fall from the horses. Laighn flicked his wrists and his weapons were free, once again sailing through the air with a hum. The final man only had time to raise his weapon and aim when another _CRACK!_heralded the man's fall to the ground.

_SNAP! CRACK!_All five men lay unconscious on the ground, and immediately he placed the two whips together. With a flick of his wrist, they coalesced into one long unit, and with another flick, it was tightly wound around his waist, once again merely a belt.

"All right Laighn!" she hollered, jumping up to run to him with congratulations and admiration. A dirty, calloused hand enclosed over her mouth and an arm with an iron grasp encircled her waist. She was pulled roughly against a hard body, and warm, scratchy lips tickled her ear.

"Listen here, sweetheart, just play nice, and nobody will get hurt."

She wouldn't play nice. With every ounce of strength in her body, she began to wiggle and squirm, doing her best to force this man to drop her. He only held tighter, cutting off her air, but in his effort to hold her in check, his hand covering her mouth made one error, and she bit down on the foul finger as hard as her jaw would clench.

The salty taste of blood invaded her mouth and the nasty hand jerked away from her face. "LAIG-!" she screamed loudly before the bloody fingers covered her face once again, smearing the gooey liquid over her mouth. She continued to fight and squirm, but the effort was only making her tired, and getting her nowhere. But she wouldn't give up.

"Down," a deep, commanding voice ordered and she looked up to see Laighn standing in the door with a whip in one hand and pistol in the other, pointed straight at them. He must have sprinted the distance back to the barn, but he didn't appear winded... only angry.

Her captor merely laughed and held her higher, covering himself with her body. "I suggest you let us by, kid-"

The whip lashed out and she felt a sharp sting on her neck and the loud bang of gunfire just before her world turned black.

xxxxxxx

The town they were riding into reminded him of a set from an old John Wayne movie he'd watched with his dad, and he chuckled to himself. If things had just been different, he could really enjoy this moment. Unfortunately, it didn't take long for things to go wrong. Even a hundred years in the past, a Crichton couldn't go anywhere without finding trouble.

Thomas parked the wagon in front of a building with Smitty's General Store painted across the front. An overhang protected the boardwalk from the glaring sun, and an old man sat on a bench in the shade by the front door. He was eyeing them warily, never letting his gaze wander from the suspicious pair, and he was diligent enough to spit his chaw juice out the side of his mouth onto the wood at regular intervals.

"Hello," Thomas greeted the man cordially. The man was gracious enough to nod slightly.

Without another word, the two men climbed down from the wagon and entered the establishment. Aeric was enthralled by the sheer volume of history sitting in a single room. Shelves upon shelves of antiques that he'd only read about, or heard about. It was like walking into a museum.

He garnered a few odd looks as he roamed the shelves, but he ignored them happily… until he was stopped by a man standing in the middle of an aisle. Thomas was on the other side of the room talking to Smitty, ordering the needed supplies, and Aeric found himself without allies.

Not that he was particularly scared, he'd been confronted like this more times than he ever wanted to count. It was simply irritating. "Excuse me," he said politely before attempting to step around the burly man. No one could ever say that he didn't try to give someone the benefit of the doubt. But he braced himself anyway, knowing it was futile.

True to form, the man stepped in front of Aeric, blocking his path. Fine. Sighing, Aeric turned around to go the other direction when another man stepped in front of him again. Great. He was trapped in the narrow aisle between two idiot cowboys, neither of whom could spell their name if it were tattooed to their hands. But they didn't need to read with the jobs they pulled.

"Is there an issue?" he asked in irritation.

"Yeah," the bearded man in front of him said. "You."  
He recognized them then, they were two of the men he'd chased off Caruther's farm two over weekens ago. Holy Cholak, this was ridiculous. "We've already resolved our issues," he tried, just before he was picked up by the scruff of his neck and his inner leg and unceremoniously carried outside and thrown on the road.

His breath was knocked from his lungs, and just as he was trying to gain his bearings and stand, a sharp kick to his stomach, then one to his face, landed him flat in the dirt again. "Oh, real big," he managed with what little air was left to him and spitting blood. "Kick a man when he's down. Too scared to come at me one at a time?"

He should shut up, but keeping his mouth closed had never been his strong suit. The scars from ol' Furball's whips could attest to that. Another kick landed on his side this time, and he realized he was done with this dren. He was half Sebacean, he'd been trained by the best, and it was time he started acting like it.

Ignoring his discomfort and the rolling pain, he stood up and faced the aggressors. A crowd was beginning to form on the wooden walkways, and the noise was getting louder. He scanned for a weapon amongst the thugs, but it seemed that this was supposed to be a beating; the message pain, not the ease of death. He wanted to laugh. These idiots thought they could make him feel anything that he hadn't already been through.

He coughed and salty thick blood covered his tongue. Perfect. One man grabbed him from behind, the other positioned himself in front, preparing for the beating. Aeric waited until the man threw his punch, until he wasn't quite as guarded, and breathed out heavily through thin lips, spraying his attacker eye's with blood.

The cowboy screamed with the sting and backed up slightly, giving the young Crichton time to pull his legs off the ground and kick him in the face. Realizing that he'd just helped the victim beat his friend, the bearded man let go of Aeric, just in time for him to spin and lunge his foot straight out to the side, kidney kicking his other attacker and dropping him to the ground instantly.

The first man was back in action, headed for Aeric. He ducked, grabbing the attacker by the waist and standing up, flipped him over his back, dropping the assailant directly on his head. Two more well placed jabs against pressure points, and both men were unconscious.

He bent over with his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. The human side of him was now taking precedence, and he was starting to feel the internal damage they'd caused. Hezmana, but he hurt. He coughed, and more blood filled his mouth.

"Aeric!" a familiar, frantic voice called to him "Aeric boy, are you all right?"

"Yes, Thomas. I'll be fine."

Now that the show was over, people began to go along their way, and he was left doubled over in the road with Caruthers hovering. "We need to get you to a physician-"

"No!" Aeric shouted, then softened his voice. "No Thomas. No doctors."

"But you need help!"

"They can't help me."

Thomas merely nodded. "All right, son. I'm the last person to force you to a doctor. Let me help you."

Gingerly, the old man put Aeric's arm around his shoulder, and together the two walked the short distance back to the store. One of the benches was vacant now, and Aeric was lowered into the seat with care. "Wait here," Thomas instructed. "I will see to the supplies, and then find a place for us to rest."

"No, let's head back as soon as we can," Aeric said, visions of Emmaline and Laighn back at the farm filling his mind. He knew Laighn would protect her, and he also knew that Laighn wouldn't touch her. But he wanted to be there, to see her again, to be the one to watch over her and keep her safe.

"We can't," Thomas told him. "The horses need their rest. The earliest we can go is tomorrow."

Frell. One more day wasted. He nodded acknowledgement and closed his eyes, leaning back on the hard bench. Thomas could handle things inside, for now he needed to rest.

xxxxxxx

When Emmaline's eyes opened, her head felt as though her cast iron stewing pot had fallen on her skull. BIG small BIG small it pounded with the rhythm of her heartbeat. What had Laighn done to her? She remembered the sight of the whip flying toward her, the sting of the tip snapping against her neck, and the sound of a gunshot resonating in her ears.

But now she was in her own bed, fully dressed, minus her stockings and boots, and tucked neatly into her covers. The orange light of dawn or dusk was seeping through the windows, casting shadows on the walls. Her room was deathly silent.

Forget that thought, she didn't want to associate anything with death right now. The whole house felt still... calm... noiseless. What had happened to those men? Was Laighn all right? Gingerly, she threw the covers off her body and sat up, letting her legs dangle over the side. It reminded her of when Aeric had done the exact same thing almost three weeks ago, and she was sure the look on her face right now was similar to the expression he had worn. Tired. Sore.

Noiselessly, she padded across the room in her bare feet and went to her door, peering out into the common room. Laighn was sitting at the dining table, elbows rested against the wood, his face held in his palms. He was watching something very intently.

Not wanting to disturb him, she quietly stepped forward, and was amazed at what she saw. On the table rested a small round disk, with light shining upwards. And within that light was the face of a beautiful woman smiling brightly. She was pale, even more so than Laighn. She had long grayish-white hair, though it was evident she was young. Her lips were a dark grey, matching shadows on her face, neck and shoulders. The woman giggled and winked suggestively, and Laighn sighed.

Emmaline realized she was intruding on a private moment and didn't want to be sneaky, but she was curious. "Who is she?"

Startled, Laighn grabbed the disk, immediately stopping the picture, and shoved it in his pocket, clearing his throat. He swiped a hand over his eyes, but Emmaline pretended not to see that. "She is very beautiful." She wanted to ask how that magic was made, but right now didn't seem the right moment. All her questions could wait a bit.

"Jelenn," Laighn said as he rose from his chair and made himself busy pulling ingredients from the cupboard. He was an accomplished cook on his own, and she'd shown him the art of making biscuits their first night alone together. He kept his face away from her, trying to distract her with busyness. But it was obvious he needed to talk.

"Can I see her?"

Laighn paused in his movements, the flour halfway to the counter top. At last, he gently set the container down and returned to the table. Slowly, he pulled the disk from his pocket, pushed a button on the side, and placed it flat on the wood. Dim light rose up, and once again, the woman was shown, smiling, giggling silently, and winking.

"Is she your girl?" Emmaline asked, hoping she was helping and not making Laighn 's homesickness worse.

He turned his eyes on her, considering his response. She expected the usual "Yes ma'am," but instead, he interlocked his two pointer fingers together and pulled, showing a connection, a bond. "She's your wife."

Laighn nodded, and looked back at the woman in the light. "Wife," he repeated. "Hn'logth"

"Hn'logth" Emmaline said, trying to keep the word in her memory. Wife- Hn'logth. "Jelenn."

Laighn nodded, and once again turned off the picture, gently clipping the disk to a chain around his neck and tucking it into his shirt next to his heart. He smiled at her, cheered by the small exchange, and began to busy himself with the food preparations again.

"What happened to the men?" Emmaline asked abruptly, feeling as though he would not welcome many more questions into his private life. He waved his hand in the air above his head carelessly, hardly pausing in his chore. "They're gone?"

"Yes ma'am."

She paused, afraid to ask the next question, but needing to know. "Did you kill them?"

Her voice had been quiet, and she was concerned she would need to repeat herself. How was he supposed to answer that? Did she even _want_to know the truth? Five of the men had been disabled without much incident, but the one… the one… she didn't want to think about him.

She could feel his rough arm around her, and taste that nasty hand in her mouth all over again. Fear began to curl through her, and her breath became shallow, the blood pumping through her veins growing cold.

"Sgthrech bectnra tro sheo," Laighn said, right before she felt a cool damp cloth on her forehead. One hand held the cloth in place, the other was on her back, guiding her to the chair he'd vacated only a few moments previously and he knelt beside her. "Hynvechticomph," he instructed, then demonstrated his meaning by breathing in, then out heavily.

She followed his directions, breathing deeply for a few minutes, and slowly the dizziness and awfulness faded slightly. But she was angry with herself for letting someone else have that amount of control over her emotions. The anger, the frustration, the fear all collided, and she felt her chest heave with the strain of holding back sobs. But it was no use, and the torrent broke forth, unstoppable.

The cloth was gone and the pale man she'd come to trust gently pulled her into his arms, letting her sob on his shoulder. One hand rubbed her back, the other patted her head as though she were a little child. But she didn't care, it was comforting.

How long she stayed there soaking his shirt with her tears and snot, she had no idea. But at last she calmed and was able to sit up, wipe her eyes with the back of her hand and snort inelegantly. "I'm sorry," she said as the hitches subsided. "I don't know what came over me."

He smiled, shrugged and waved his hand, telling her he didn't mind. After making sure she was in control of her emotions, he stood and returned to the food on the counter. "Hungry?"

"Yes," she said, surprised with herself. "I'm starved."

"Good. We eat soon."

The subject had been dropped, and she didn't return the conversation back to the men who had attacked. She never did get her answer, but she had a feeling that Laighn would use the communication gap to avoid giving her any details. That was all right, though. She would find out eventually what happened. Standry would make sure of it.

xxxxxxx

The afternoon was cool for late spring, the sky a brilliant, cloudless blue. Birds he couldn't recognize were overhead, playing games in the air and probably singing. He couldn't tell, though, because the noise of the wagon drowned out the sounds of nature. He'd decided he hated this mode of travel, and he missed his prowler. Even Dad's module would have made the trip in a couple of microts, and with a lot less jarring, too.

But he comforted himself knowing that they would be back at the farm soon. Emmaline's face hovered before him, and he wondered what he would do when it was time to leave permanently. Thomas's request to marry Emmaline reared its head, and started to seriously consider it. So far, he'd been optimistic about the module, but nothing was certain yet. There was still a great many repairs to be made.

Marrying her would give him some time with her, if only for a little while, and it would protect her from her enemies. Wasn't that what a Crichton did? Protect the ones they love? But Thomas had forgotten one thing... what did Emmaline want? It was all well and good for Thomas to make plans for his daughter, but if she didn't want to marry him, Aeric couldn't force her. He wouldn't force her. What if she already loved someone else? She had agreed to marry this Marcus character, hadn't she?

"Papa!" her voice cried from a distance, interrupting his musings, and he was treated to the sight of her jogging down the road, her hair flying loose behind her in the breeze.

Her smile was wide and she looked so happy that the sun could have been originating from inside her. The horses picked up speed, whether from Thomas's urging or their own desire to be back home in their own stable unimportant, and within a few moments they had pulled in the small yard and stopped near the porch.

Thomas jumped down while Aeric climbed to the back of the wagon, ready to work, and the old man was instantly bombarded with Emmaline and a giant hug. She was full of energy, and when she turned her brilliant smile on Aeric, all coherent thought momentarily fled. He could only look at her, admiring her beauty.

But her smile vanished almost instantly, replaced by horror. "What happened to you?" she asked, one hand reaching up to him, as if she wanted to touch the injuries to prove to herself they were really there.

Aeric shrugged, turning back to the supplies and began to pull out a large sack. Laighn had appeared from the barn, and was grabbing the bags as they were being handed down. "I ran into a post," he said. Both he and his friend exchanged quick looks, and continued to unload.

"The green suits you," Laighn mumbled under his breath, and Aeric accidently dropped a fifty pound flour sack on his co-pilot's foot.

"Oh, sorry," he said sarcasically, picking up another bundle and continuing the haul.

Emmaline was not going to let the matter drop. "It was Standry's men, wasn't it?"

Aeric didn't even glance at her, merely continued to unload. "Thomas, Laighn and I can handle it here if you wanted to help Emmaline put things where they belong?"

"Good idea, thank you," the older man answered a he headed to the porch where the bags were being piled.

"Somebody answer me!" Emmaline hollered, stomping her boot in the dirt and crossing her arms. Aeric severely wanted to laugh, but he managed to hold in his mirth.

Sighing dramatically, he stopped his chore and turned to her with the most charming smile he could muster. "Emmy, it's nothing to worry about, all right? A couple of guys took issue with my presence, and we had a discussion. I explained to them that they had no say in where I went, and with whom I spent my time. They understood, and I was left in peace to carry out my business." There was no way she could resist that charm.

"You are so full of horse ychardlsn!" she threw at him with her eyes narrowed.

He was so shocked to hear the Luxan swear word fly from her lips, and so fluently, that he was momentarily left speechless, his jaw left hanging open slightly. His eyes flew to Laighn, but the half Sebacean was suddenly very busy sorting the bags and wouldn't look up. "You bonded I see," he said accusingly.

"We had to t-" Laighn began, but Emmaline wasn't listening to either of them.

"That is it!" she hollered angrily, leaning over and grabbing the hem of her skirt before stomping in the direction of the barn. Her stockings and the edge of her knickers could be seen as the material bunched in her hands swung back and forth. "He has gone too far this time! It's one thing when he comes after me, but to-"

She was too far away for the men hear her diatrabude anymore, but Aeric wasn't listening anyway. His attention flew to Laighn. "Talk to me."

"Three days ago, six riders tried to ambush the farm," the co-pilot answered with precision. "I took out five with the crixtna, but one managed to sneak behind and get ahold of her. I had to snap her to get her out of the way for a clean shot."

"So you killed one."

"I shot at him, didn't I? I tied them all to their horses and sent them off. No one's bothered us again yet, but I've kept her fairly close to the house."

"Thanks Laighn. I owe you one."  
"No, I figure this makes us even. I haven't forgotten what you did for Jelenn at Barius Four. But you might want to stop Emmaline before she does something we'll all regret."

Aeric hopped off the wagon and ran to the barn, in time to see Emmaline putting a saddle on a tired looking nag. "Where are you going?" he asked, trying to control his breathing from the exercise he'd just endured.

She was still angry and her movements were deliberate and harsh. "I'm going to Standry's. This has got to stop."

"And what are you going to do, yell him into submission?"

She whirled around, not realizing he'd been stepping closer, and the movement nearly made them collide. "I have to do _something_!" she cried. "I'm tired of not being able to walk on my own land! I'm tired of being afraid! I'm tired of people I care about getting hurt because of the arrogance of one man and his greed! I'm tired of waiting for something to change! I'm tir-"

"Then marry me," Aeric blurted before he realized what he was saying. But the instant the words were out, he knew he meant them. He wanted her for himself, if only for a little while. Her eyes had flown to him in shock, wide and unreadable. "It would solve all your problems. You would be free. Marry me."

He held his breath, and the thump of his heart against his chest hurt with the forceful pounding. All he could hear was his blood pounding in his ears, and he watched her lift her gaze and look out the window to the house, where Laighn was still unloading the wagon. Those green eyes grew soft with longing, and she turned to him once again.

"Thank you for the offer, Aeric. It is kind of you. But I can't."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Why?" he asked gruffly, wanting to kick himself. What about letting her make her own choice? But he couldn't help himself, he continued to hold her eyes with his own, almost demanding an answer.

"Well, I…" she stumbled, surprised by his question. She looked away and let her eyes rest on the stable wall, on the hay, on the nag next to them. Anywhere but at him. "I…"

"Is it him?" Aeric asked, pointing to the window, trying to reign in his irrational anger. If she didn't want him because she didn't care about him, he could live with that. But to turn him down because she had a thing for his best friend, that would be intolerable. "He's married."

Her face softened and a smile played about her lips. "I know, I saw her picture. Isn't she beautiful? He keeps it next to his heart. Isn't that sweet? She is so exotic. Where is she from?"

"Nebari Prime," he answered without thinking. Frell. He could only attribute his slip to complete and total confusion over her abrupt turn from pining over a man to gushing over the same man's wife. Hezmana, this girl made no sense!

"Is that one of the islands in the Arctic? Papa said that there are a lot of uncharted islands up there. Are there a lot of pale people from Nebari Prime, like the dark people come from Africa?"

His head was spinning. In a few short sentences, she'd changed the subject twice, got him to confess things that torturers had never been able to pry from him under the worst conditions, and had avoided his question altogether about why she wouldn't marry him.

"Ummm… yes?" he wasn't sure which question he was really answering right then, and was at a loss for words. At least she'd forgotten Standry for the moment.

"Are you hungry?" she asked, changing the subject yet again. "You've got to be starving. Papa and Marcus always were hungry when they returned. Let's go get you something to eat." She grabbed his arm and started to lead him to the door of the barn.

"Emmaline!" He stopped, and it pulled her back slightly since she'd been herding him out so quickly.

"What?" she asked, turning to look at him with a confused smile. Those green eyes bored into him, and he felt cornered.

What was he supposed to say? Marry me, damn it, even though I'm going to leave you as soon as I get my spaceship working? He sighed. It was for the best. "Do you have Beef Stew?"

She rolled her eyes and laughed, pulling him again. "Yes. And Laighn made some delicious biscuits last night as well. Let's go eat."

Great. He could get Laighn's lousy cooking anytime. He wanted _her_biscuits.

xxxxxxx

"I don't get her," Aeric fumed, his torso under the flight panel of his module as he adjusted controls.

Laighn was stationed in the pilot's chair, reading the monitors and advising. "She's a woman, you're not supposed to understand."

"How about now?"

"Nope."

Aeric continued adjusting. "She's in a bad position. If this Marcus guy doesn't show up and marry her soon, she's going to lose everything and either married to that winner Standry, or in a whore-house. Now?"

"Nope."

"And this Marcus guy is old enough to be her father. In fact, I think he's slightly _older_than her father." He didn't know that, but he was on a roll, and nothing was going to stop him from imagining the worst. "If she's going to marry for convenience, you'd think she'd want somebody who doesn't have one foot in the grave! How about now?"

"Better, less Threscon and more Govrain."

"I was doing her a favor! A _favor_, and she throws it in my face! Now?"

"More Geethin. Maybe that's your problem."

Aeric stopped and looked out from under the panel, glaring up at Laighn. "That Marcus guy was doing her a favor, and she said yes to him!"

"Two points here," Laighn said, clearing his throat and leaning over slightly to share confidences. "One; was she even _asked_her opinion about the Marcus guy?"

"I don't know," Aeric admitted reluctantly.

"Two; you aren't an old guy she's known all her life with one foot in the grave. You are young. She is young. Women have these romantic ideas that we're supposed to fulfill somehow."

Aeric raised an eyebrow doubtfully. "Then how the hezmana did you win over Jelenn?"

"I can be incredibly romantic when I need to be."

Aeric snorted his disbelief and returned to his post under the panel. "I can't be romantic," he said, returning to the topic. "I'm leaving her behind. I can't try to make her fall for me when I'm planning on leaving, that wouldn't be right."

"Did you ever stop to think that maybe you're already too late?"

Aeric froze for a moment, chilled with the thought. "No, not Emmy," he decided.

"Why do you want to marry her again?" Laighn asked, forcing Aeric to take a good look at his motives.

"I don't want to!" he said for both their benefit.

"So there isn't a problem then."

"No!"

"Good."

"Fine."

"Fine." Laighn paused. "You realize you've just fused the neurosl line to the combustible exhaust valve, right?"

He ducked just in time to avoid getting nailed by the flying valve adjuster headed directly for his face.

xxxxxxx

It was official, Emmaline was crazy. The man of her dreams, the love of her life had asked her to marry him, and she'd turned him down. She was still disgusted with herself. What did she expect, roses and moonlight? Stupid, silly, childish girl! When she'd looked out that window and saw Laighn, and remembered the look on his face and his devotion to his wife, she desperately wanted that same thing for herself and turned down an acceptable marriage for a girlish fantasy.

It had been two weeks since he'd proposed, and every single day, she watched him- hoping for some sign that he cared for her. But he was frequently grouchy, and avoided talking to her. Sometimes though, during the quiet moments, she could catch a glimpse of something in his eyes when he looked upon her. And it filled her with vague hope.

But he was always disgustingly polite. And while that was a trait she found admirable, she was jealous by the easy camaraderie he shared with Laighn when his guard was down. She wanted to know the real Aeric, not the perfectly mannered man he chose to show her. But what could she do?

She stewed over the issue for another week, until the answer was handed to her. The afternoon was sunny and warm; the perfect day for berry picking. It had been months since she'd made a fresh pie, and half the pleasure was the walk beforehand, listening to the birds and watching the animals in the woods. So she turned to the men in the common room and announced her intentions.

"I'm going to pick berries for pie. I'll be back in a few hours."

Papa cleared his throat from his reclined position on the sofa and sat up slightly, looking at her worriedly. "Emmaline, I'm not sure if that is a good idea."

"I've been cooped up inside for weeks, Papa. I need to get out and get some fresh air. Going to the chicken coop doesn't count."

"Then take one of the boys with you," he said. "I'm sure they would be happy to escort you. You are much better company than an old man."

That was it. She'd had enough. The same fire that had fueled her attempt to face Standry three weeks ago filled her once again, and she turned to Aeric brashly and said the first thing that entered her mind. "Aeric, will you teach me how to defend myself?" This was an absurd request, but she was tired of feeling helpless.

She wanted some freedom, and she couldn't have a babysitter following her around everywhere she went. If she had been better prepared, the man who'd grabbed her wouldn't have had such an easy time, and maybe Laighn wouldn't have had to shoot him.

"Sure Emmaline, but you need to change your clothes first," Aeric answered readily enough, as though it were no big deal that she was asking to learn how to fight. "It'll be easier in the beginning if you're not in your skirts."

"What am I supposed to wear?" she asked hesitantly, some of the fire dimming. What had she just gotten herself into?

"Go grab a pair of pants and meet me in the barn," he answered carelessly, getting out of the rocker.

"I don't have any pants." What did he think she was?

"Laighn's pretty thin, if you tie a rope around your waist you could probably get a pair of his pants to stay up. Laighn, you mind?"

"Tjdect ot, nthg jchswa," he answered.

Evidently, it was no problem.

Fifteen minutes later, completely mortified, she found herself standing in the barn facing Aeric, wearing her stockings, a pair of Laighn's pants and one of Aeric's shirts. A thick rope was tied around her waist, holding up the pants and tucking the shirt in close to her body. She'd never worn pants before, and she felt... wrong. And silly.

Aeric had spread a thick layer of straw and hay over a wide area, in hopes of creating a soft mat. Eyeing it dubiously, she took a deep breath and expressed her doubts. "Maybe this was a bad idea."

"Why?" he asked, his blue eyes boring into her. She hated it when he did that.

"Because women don't-"

"Yes, they do," he told her as he circled behind her. "My mother taught me a lot of what I'm about to show you. My sister can do it better than I can. Women are strong and able to defend themselves."

He had definitely grown up in a whole different world than her. And he just let her know that his mother was a warrior woman, like in the fairy tale he'd told weeks ago. She smiled to herself. Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all. She might be really bad at this whole fighting thing, but she'd be with him and possibly learning more about his past.

"Now, the first thing-" his arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind and she was trapped.

Panic instantly flooded her body and a scream tore through her lungs. The smell of dirty body, greasy hair, unwashed laundry and blood filled her nostrils and she was kicking and fighting for freedom. He was back! He was going to get her this time!

But the iron grasp fell away almost instantly, and Aeric was now in front of her, dodging her flying arms. "Emmaline! Emmaline, stop! It's me!"

The smell was gone, replaced by Aeric's own unique scent and she breathed in deeply, letting the smell comfort her. She fell to her knees and he was kneeling before her, one hand cupping her jaw and pulling her against his chest, the other combing through her hair. She was crying. Again.

His arms wrapped around her, holding her close. But there was no panic or fear this time. Only peace. He was making soothing noises and gently rocking her, letting his heartbeat lull her into calmness. She needed a hanky. "I'm sorry," she gulped on a hiccup, sniffling.

"It's all right," he said, kissing her hair as his hands rubbed her back. "It's all right, sweetheart. That's why we're out here. To make sure you never have to feel powerless again. All right?" She nodded. "And I promise never to do that again without warning you first." She nodded again against his chest and hiccupped. "I'm sorry I frightened you." Again, she nodded. "Are you ready to try again?"

"What?" she asked, confused.

"Your defense training. Are you ready to start again?"

Oh yeah. That. She sighed. "Yes, I am. And I promise not to have a tantrum this time."

"That wasn't a tantrum," he told her as he stood, pulling on her hand to join him. "That was a natural reaction to being put in extreme circumstances that you've never had to deal with before. It'll happen again. But next time you'll understand what is going on, and it won't be quite as horrible. Empowerment is the key."

His eyes were direct and honest, compassionate. He _did_understand. And her heart broke for him as she remembered the scars on his torso and leg. He must think her small fiasco was nothing compared to the trials he'd endured. She wanted to share the grief with him. "How come you know so much? What happened to you that you can understand so easily?"

He glanced at her, then away, his hands resting on his hips. "I'm a soldier Emmaline. I've been caught up in a war for over ten cycles, and it's still raging. I was a slave for the first thirteen cycles of my life. I've had plenty of opportunity to learn the need for empowerment. I've had lots of practice at overcoming very bad things."

"Tell me about it," she entreated. She wanted to hear about him, about his trials. She wanted to share his pain. He'd helped her to deal with her fears; maybe she could help him in some small way.

He looked at her, then away, torn over her request. She could tell Aeric didn't want to answer her. Finally, he let out a long slow breath, his eyes distant and haunted as he slowly slipped into the past. She wasn't sure he was aware of his surroundings anymore. Carefully, she pulled one of his hands into her own, and tugged him down until they were sitting together in the hay, cross-legged. She new she should release his hand, but he began to caress her wrist with his thumbs, and she couldn't bring herself to break the contact.

Clearing his throat, he began.

xxxxxxx

"When I was eighteen cycles old, Scorpius finally caught up with our ship," he heard himself say.

_Fighting with dad, fear, frustration, absolute darkness._

"My job was to rescue my baby niece and my four cycle-old brother, Dne."

_"We're going to play a game Dne, you like hide and seek!"_

"For five solar days, we hid in a place that only I knew about. But I had no contact with the outside world. I had no way to know when it would be safe to return."

_How the frell was he supposed to know when it was all right to come out of hiding? Patiently, he waited. He counted out the microts, the arns, the solar days. He cared for Yethy, entertained Dne, and tried to keep his mind off whatever had happened to his family. But they couldn't stay there forever, he had to find out what had happened._

"So I fed Yethy, tucked her in close to Dne and told him to watch over her, I would be back soon."

_"Be careful with Yethy. I'll be back as soon as I can, all right?"_

The boy, wide eyed, nodded bravely. "Yes Ae-ic."

Quietly, Aeric left the small chamber that had been home for nearly a weeken and closed the access point, leaving himself in darkness.

"I traveled through the dark tunnels, trying to find the exit point farthest from the children's hiding place."

_Hunched over, the walls barely wide enough for him to fit through, he made his way through the blackness, relying on memory and instinct. Turn after turn, he calculated the steps until he was sure he was at the right exit point._

"But it had been a long time since I'd been down those tunnels. It was dark. Very dark."

_Contorting himself, he laid on the floor and began feeling for the small anomaly that would indicate he was correct. He wasn't. His stride must have lengthened over the years, and he slowly scooted backwards on his stomach, stopping every few motras to feel the wall._

"Finding my way out was hit and miss. I don't know how long it took me to find the right place, but I did."

_Finally, he'd found it; the small hole near the floor, no larger than his littlest finger. He rubbed his hands over the wall and felt the familiar heat. Within several microts, the edges of the panel glowed a faint red, and he stuck his finger through the opening and gently pulled._

"When I pulled open the entrance and peered into the hallway, all was clear. Not a soul was around. If only I could make it to my quarters and get my comms, I could talk to Pilot and find out everything that had happened, find out where my family was."

_Quiet. No sign of the DRD's. Lights dim. Wrong. Everything was wrong. Go back to the babies? Go forward? Help. Supplies low. Go forward. Comms- get comms and talk to Pilot._

"With as much stealth as I could, I traveled her empty halls, hiding behind her ribs, holding my pulse pistol close. I was the only one who knew where the babies were. If something happened to me, they would be abandoned."

_What was that sound? Boot steps! Duck! Duck until you know who they are! Head in view, perfect aim. Point blank. "Keep your mouth shut and turn around very slowly."_

"But I found a crewmate, nearly shot his head off before I figured out who he was."

_"Where the frell have you been for the last five solar days?" Tean demanded. Flooding relief. Stumble backwards into Moya's wall. Tean's hands trying to grasp him around the arms and lift him. "Where are the children?"_

_"Hiding. Alone."_

"He told me what had happened."

_Guilt. Always guilt._

"Everyone had abandoned ship, and Moya and Pilot flew away."

_Starburst. Tean caught and dragged along. Gave that bastard Brennik and John so that Eiyeth and Aeric and Dne could live. Guilt. Always guilt._

"So I told Tean where to find the babies, I took my first module, and I went to find my family. It took me several weekens, Scorpius and his soldiers had disappeared."

_Irony, incredulity. Running from someone for four cycles of your life, and now that you want to confront them, you can't find them._

"Luckily, Tean still had some contacts from his old Peacekeeper and smuggling days, and managed to find the encryption signal to broadcast to them. So I made Scorpius a deal. Me, for all for them."

_"Yo, Scorpius!" in his best John imitation. "You're a bigger dumb-ass than I gave you credit for. Haven't you figured out yet that they can't help you? You're looking for ME pal. And have I got a deal for you!"_

"He went for it. After a complicated arrangement, my family was released, and I was in Scorpius' clutches. You can hear about the horror of that man for four cycles, but nothing can ever prepare you for the first time you see him."

_Shudders ran through his body as the black-clad skeletal man walked into the room with that smug smile of triumph._

"He put me in a chair that could read your mind, and put it on a screen in front of you, showing it to whoever wanted to watch. It spun, around and around… showing all your secrets, your fears, your hopes, your fondest memories."

_Nausea. Dizzyness. Brain getting sliced away, one layer at a time. Electrical pain flowing through every muscle in your body. Die. Just let me die._

"See, Scorpius wanted my ability to… my ability so that he could build a weapon to defeat a race of people that were seeking universal domination. Enslavement."

_"I'm doing this for you, Aeric. For your family. Sebaceans are outnumbered ten to one. Without this weaponry, thousands of cycles of history will be lost. You must understand. Help me, and we can overcome this threat together."_

"So I started to help him. The more I cooperated, the less he put me in the chair."

_Shame. Guilt. Damned if you do. Damned if you don't. How many lives lost to Scarrans already?_

"I learned a lot while I was with him. I learned the extent of my ability to manipulate this phenomenon. I learned that I couldn't put it on paper, it was all instinctual. I learned that I knew how to build them and how to destabilize them and how to destroy them. And I could teach him how as well. And I almost did."

_Crashing, burning, the floor shaking beneath his feet, walls crumbling. Chaos. Screaming. The world falling down around him._

"But my family came and rescued me before it was too late, before I could hand over the technology."

_Half a microt, a single breath, mid-sentence… the sheet of metal flew across the room, slicing off Scorpius' head and embedded itself into the console. Cold black eyes staring at him, lifeless, a headless body slumped to the ground._

_Numb. No emotion. No guilt. Yet._

"Scorpius was killed during the rescue. The Scarrans learned of his death, and the war was immediately commenced, reigning carnage. And they had learned, through their spies, that I had the coveted weaponry knowledge. So for the last eleven cycles, I have been running from every being who blames me for the Scarran invasions, and from the Scarrans, who want the knowledge in my head."

_Guilt. Always guilt. Always death around him. Sufferning._

An arm wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him into a warm embrace. His head was gently laid against her soft chest, and he heard her calm heartbeat, felt the soft lips against his hair. He'd never told anyone that story before. Ever. And he'd never planned to. But somehow, someway, sharing had purged some of the awfulness, and his burdens felt just a little less heavy.

xxxxxxx

He let Emmaline hold him for just a little while before he pulled away and stood, stretching his legs. He had run out of words, and he seemed almost embarrassed for sharing so much with her.

Much of it, she didn't understand. It was all fantastic, talk of flying ships and strange chairs and powerful weapons. But she'd witnessed miraculous, unexplainable thing from them already. She knew he was capable. And she trusted him. And now she partly understood the haunted, burdened look on his face when he thought no one was watching.

He blamed himself for every single death in that war. "Stay here," she told him brashly. "Don't go back to that."

She expected him to be angry and to swear at her in his native language, but his eyes softened. "Oh, Emmy," he whispered, stepping close to her, pulling her up into his embrace. "I can't. What if Laighn hadn't been here to stop that cowboy? Do you know what would have happened?"

It was a change in subject, but she nodded, feeling that Aeric was only making her case for her. Until he continued.

"People are going through that every day, but there is no one to save them. They are getting murdered, tortured, raped. Subjugated." He pulled back slightly, looking directly into her eyes. "That is what Laighn and I are fighting. That is why we came here, that is why we have to go back. I started this, but we have a chance to stop the fighting, to stop the destruction." He paused, laying his forehead against hers, collecting himself and removing the last vestiges of the trip into the past. At last, he smiled his usual charming smile, the one she knew he felt could send any woman into a swoon. "But before we go back," he told her, "I am going to make sure that you can fend for yourself."

She sighed, realizing that had turned the subject right back around to her self defense training. "All right," she said with determination, suddenly feeling powerful. "Teach me." Maybe if she learned quickly enough, and well enough, he would want to take her with him. His mother was a warrior, his sister was a warrior, why not Emmaline? She wanted to help. She was going to prove herself capable if it killed her.

xxxxxxx

"I don't know about you," Laighn said, leaning shirtless against a tree, "but I could do with a really tall raslak right about now." The day was warm as the month progressed into summer, and the two men had been working for arns in the sun. And when they were done here, they would work on the module. "I thought John said they had alcohol on earth," he griped.

"It's called beer," Aeric said from his own perch, waving his hat in the air in front of his face to create a breeze. "And Thomas and Emmaline don't drink it."

"Why the frell not?" his co-pilot asked in irritation, taking a swig from a water flask.

"They believe it's evil. Apparently, Thomas wasn't always the kind hearted farmer we know today, and it was attributed to the large amounts of alcohol he would consume on a daily basis. He was described as 'a mule's hind end', but Emmaline wouldn't go into more detail than that. When he lost his job teaching at a fancy school, lost their house, and was disowned by his family, the three of them headed out west and started over fresh.

"Emmaline has nothing nice to say about beverages which alter a person's perception of reality."

Laighn sighed. "Dren." And then when Aeric only shrugged with a chuckle. "When did you two have time for that little chat?"

"I give her self defense lessons every day. We talk."

"Uh huh. You do realize that you've compromised her beyond repair now?"

Aeric raised an eyebrow in unbelief. "First of all, I'm not even going to ask how you learned of that little social tidbit, and secondly, I haven't touched her."

It was Laighn's turn to raise an eyebrow. "So yesterday when I walked into the barn to see you two interlocked together on the ground…"

The half human rolled his eyes in irritation. "I was showing her the Plungthetic Escape. You didn't think anything of it when I was in the exact same position with Jelenn, showing her how to kick _your_eema."

"You weren't tickling her, either."

"Oh, for the love of Cholak, I was not-"

"Aeric, Emmaline will loose everything if she doesn't keep her reputation squeaky clean. Since that Marcus guy doesn't appear to be coming back anytime soon, she has to find some guy to marry her, and quickly. Thomas is staying alive through sheer willpower. He's going to loose that battle. Soon."

Aeric winced with the mention of Thomas. The poor man was fading fast. He would walk outside with them every morning and rest while the two younger men handled the work. Emmaline didn't know, and he felt bad not telling her. But it was Thomas's wish.

"I'll talk to her at her next lesson. Maybe there's someone available that her father hasn't thought of yet. Someone she'd actually be willing to marry."

"She's in love with you, you know."

"She refused to marry me, you know. And it was for the best. What kind of husband marries a woman, and then leaves the planet?" he asked, raising his own water flask to his mouth. The words were barely out of his mouth before he pulled in deep gulps of water.

"You could bring her with us, you know."

The entire swallow instantly tried to go down the wrong tube, and Aeric choked with the near drowning. Coughing and sputtering, he turned an angry glare at his friend sitting calmly, watching. "Oh yeah, we could do that," he said sarcastically. "Not only will we take a woman from 1853 out of her own timeframe, possibly wiping out an entire family line that was supposed to descend from her, and changing history among everyone who ever had anything to do with her, but we'll drop her into an intergalactic war AND marry her to the universe's most wanted family, ensuring she spends the rest of her life running from every greedy maniac that ever built themselves a space ship. Yeah. We can take her with us."

"We've already changed history by landing here. And that's what we're here for, remember? 'Death to all Bird of Paradise Flowers' and all that yotz? We came to Earth _intending_to change the world as John knows it, so get off that load of dren now."

"Speaking of why we're really here," Aeric said, ignoring the real purpose behind Laighn's reproach, "I think we need to break out the glider. I've noticed the readings are off from our calculations, and I need to get some specimens to compare."

"Next week," his friend said, knowing that it was time to let the matter drop. Saying anymore would have been pointless. "But right now, we still have the fence to finish mending."

"Slave driver," Aeric complained. But it was for Emmaline and her farm, so he got up off his backside and headed for the nearest railing.

xxxxxxx

Emmaline stood at the edge of the clearing, just out of view with a basket in hand, of two minds about whether or not to move forward. Since it was Sunday and no farm work was happening, the men had been out here all day long, working on whatever project kept them busy at night. Now it was well past lunch. She'd brought them a basket of food, but now that she was actually close enough to deliver it, her courage had run out. They'd been so secretive about this, she wasn't sure their gratitude would outweigh their anger.

But just as she was about to swallow her doubts and move forward, Aeric magically appeared in the clearing, and all coherent thought fled from her mind. There he was, gloriously standing tall, wearing a skin tight, all body suit that accentuated every single muscle in his body. The black material was accentuated by white tubing, tracing the lines of his form, clear down to his black boots and black-gloved fingers. And that form was honed with many long hours of hard work, turning him into a very fine example of the shape a man could be. And that rear-end...

She was trying hard to get moisture back into her mouth and force her heart to beat. It had to be a sin to stand here and ogle him like this, but she couldn't tear her eyes away. She felt as though she were moving in slow motion as she reached down and pulled the checkered cloth off the basket and began to fan her face to try and get more airflow into her lungs. But her hand was shaking, and the effort wasn't as successful as she'd hoped.

There were two conflicting thoughts running through her mind at that moment, the first one that she was going to go to hell for lusting like this. The other being that she had said no to that man when he'd asked her to marry him. _Stupid, silly, childish girl._

He was carrying strange objects under each arm. One she thought might be a helmet of some sort, but it was all black, shiny, and made of a substance she didn't recognize. The other was a thin, ovularish- triangularish plank that was roughly four feet long and was as wide as Aeric's body.

Laighn magically stepped into view, and the two talked momentarily as Aeric handed over the helmet and laid the plank on the ground. She recognized the word "neck" and the object of her ogling merely laughed. She should have been prepared for what happened next. She should have remembered never to take anything for granted with these two, they were constantly doing the impossible.

But she wasn't, she didn't, and when Aeric hopped onto the board with an enormous smile and floated into the air, she nearly screamed. He was hovering about six inches above the ground for a second, then pushed off with one foot. The plank was carrying him across the small clearing, then through some nearby trees at speeds she'd never before witnessed. Wind ruffled his hair and his face looked happier than she'd ever seen. It was as if he were finally free after a lifetime of imprisonment.

He darted around the trees, barely missing some, and her heart leapt into her throat. He was going to kill himself. But the speed wasn't the only thing scaring her; he started to do outrageous moves, flying into the air and twisting the board under his feet, landing again and continuing on. Move after move, he only became more reckless, laughing the entire time. He loved this.

Laighn's voice carried, and she caught the main jist; time to get back to work. Aeric slowed and returned back to his friend. They talked for a few minutes, the pale man obviously concerned as he handed the helmet back.

Aeric pulled it over his head, and he no longer had a face. How could he see through the black? One knee bent low on the board and he sat on the heel behind him, planting the other foot firmly on the plank. He tucked his head in tightly and pushed an unseen button. The air around him turned shimmery, glistening in the sunlight.

He pushed another button and the plank moved forward in the air, rising as it gained momentum. Laighn was watching the retreating form with worried eyes, mumbling into the air, almost chanting. Aeric's voice spoke back to him, as though they were standing together, and it almost seemed as if they were having an argument.

A muted _CRACK_sounded over head, Aeric's voice spoke once again, and Laighn's face finally relaxed. Smiled even. Whatever they had been trying to do, it had been a success. Now would be the time to step forward and offer the food. Maybe they'd be so happy they wouldn't really notice she'd invaded their privacy.

xxxxxxx

Speeding across the sky, Aeric was trying to pay full attention to the screen in front of him. This glider was controlled completely by the movement of his body, and if he wasn't careful, this entire trip could be disastrous. This was her maiden voyage on this kind of trip, and he desperately wanted to prove her worthiness.

But the thrill of flying at this speed, this high above any kind of solid surface, was intoxicating, and it was difficult not to get side-tracked by the view playing before his eyes on the viewer in his helmet. Behind the calculations, directions and various other facts being printed on the clear screen, he could see the landscapes, the towns, the farms, far below.

"I told you it would work!" Aeric said triumphantly. If only Emmaline could be here, he could show her that-

"Hello Emmaline!" Laighn hollered, nearly blasting out Aeric's eardrums. "What brings you here today?"

Dren. Emmaline had shown up to the clearing. While they'd never actually told the Caruther's that they needed to stay away from that area, (how do you tell someone that they aren't allowed someplace on their own land?), the family had been diligent in giving the aliens their privacy. What the hezmana could have induced her to travel alone through the woods?

Now Aeric's heart was pumping from reasons other than exhilaration. Had Thomas finally succumbed to his illness? Had the farm been attacked? Was Emmaline in trouble? He should turn around. He could be back there in less than-

"I'm sorry to intrude, but I brought you some lunch," he heard her say. "You've been out here a long time. Where's Aeric? He'll be hungry too."

"Did you bring some beef stew?" Laighn asked hopefully, avoiding the question. Aeric heard Emmaline's laughter and couldn't help but smile. She was so thoughtful.

"Well, I understood the beef stew part. I'm sorry, but the menu today is fried chicken, fresh bread with preserves, apples, and blackberry pie."

Aeric's stomach started growling. He wasn't sure what all those dishes were, but they sure sounded good. And if Emmaline cooked it, it had to be delicious. Now he really wanted to turn back. If he wasn't already past the equator, he would have.

"Thank you Emmaline. That was very kind of you. It'll be delicious," Aeric couldn't help but say.

"Where are you?" he heard her voice ask in confusion, with a hint of amusement.

"Oh, I'm around," he said, watching vast amounts of water pass beneath him in the screen.

"How do you do this? Why can I hear your voice?"

"It's magic, sweetheart. Do you believe in magic?"

"Listen, you two can flirt another time. You need to concentrate on your flying or you're going to kill yourself," Laighn broke in.

"What did he say?" she asked, obviously enjoying this novelty of speaking to the air.

"I'm sorry Emmy, he said I have to get back to work. He's a slave driver."

"I've got the whip to go with it, too," Laighn said.

"All right. I'm leaving the food with him, but don't be gone too long or you might not get your share."

"Bye Em, we'll be home in time for supper."

"Bye. And by Laighn. Keep him safe."

There was a long moment of silence, and Aeric returned his full attention to the view screen in front of him. His destination was approaching quickly, and he was grateful. His leg was falling asleep and his knee was killing him. He needed to develop a new design for long travel, or this would never be used for the mid-range reconnaissance he'd intended it for.

"She's gone," Laighn informed him. "Couldn't keep your mouth closed, could you. There I was, doing my best to pretend that you were just around the next tree, indisposed, when your voice comes over the comms loud and clear. Magic," he declared derisively.

"This is coming from the guy who showed her the holo-vid chip of his wife," he reminded. "We've lived here over two monens, there's no way she's not going to be exposed to things. I'm here," he said, looking at the landscape he was descending to, slowing the glider.

This was the continent his father had directed him to, and this was the area that the readouts claimed was the most concentrated of the samples he needed. And luckily for him, it was fairly light in population as well. He didn't need discovery at this point.

Slowing the glider to regular speeds, he lowered the enviro-sheild and carefully stood up, working out the cramp in his calf and trying to reawaken his leg as he scanned the area. Finally, he found a likely clump of the flower and headed for the growth.

Within several hundred microts, he had all the samples he needed and jumped back onto his glider, adjusting the foliage to the front to be tucked in tight to the shield. This would be slightly tricky, he'd never tried to transport anything on his board before. After a few false starts, he was able to get the altitude he needed, and he headed home, thinking of Fride Cheekan and apple pie.

xxxxxxx

Aeric sighed heavily and sat back against the wall, closing his eyes in sadness. All of this had been for nothing.

"What?" Laighn asked, the worry seeping through his voice. "What did you find?"

"I was right. They aren't the same. We can't do it."

A long string of Nebari and Luxan curse words poured out of Laighn's mouth as he stood and paced in the small lab. "Are you sure?" he asked angrily, whirling around to the half human.

Aeric couldn't blame him. The man had been separated from his wife for over two monens, uncomplaining because they thought that a higher purpose would be served. And it was for nothing. "Yes, I'm sure. The genetics are just enough different that releasing the smart bomb will cause all the flowers to release a deadly gas. The flowers won't die, and we'll kill a whole lot of people."

"Can the bomb be modified to the new genetic scheme?"

"Not with the equipment we have here," Aeric said. He paused for a moment, considering the data. And then a crazy idea began to emerge. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that it just might be a viable plan. His heart began to hammer and he turned hopeful eyes at his companion. "But, there is a slight chance that something else might work."

"What's the plan?"

"I'm not sure yet, but I think the genetic differences are exact opposites. There is a possibility that with a little modification, eating these flowers will have the exact _opposite_effect on the Scarrans, dumbing them down and bringing them back to pre-evolutionary status."

Laign's eyebrow rose with disbelief and hope. "So we wouldn't just be saving earth, we'd be saving all the conquered worlds."

"Yes."

Laighn sank to the floor and released a sigh. "So there's still hope," he said.

"Yes."

"Great, let's get these flowers in stasis. They might just save the universe."

Wearily, they both stood and began the chore, the urgency to return to Moya gnawing at them. Maybe they could actually save _everyone_.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Emmaline waited quietly in the corner, until Aeric stepped into the barn. He paused, listening to the stillness for a moment. Dust particles could be seen floating in the air through the orange light seeping from the window, and he breathed in deeply before beginning the preparations for the self defense instructions.

But she had other plans for tonight. It had taken her all day long to work up the courage, and she wouldn't be held back now. Taking a fortifying breath, she stepped out of the shadows. "Good evening, Aeric."

He startled when she moved forward, but quickly recovered and smiled at her. "Hey Emmy. I wasn't expecting you so soon." His eyes traveled downward, noticing her skirts and the smile faded slightly. "Why aren't you dressed for the lesson? Has Thomas gotten worse?"

"No worse than yesterday."

A lump formed in her throat and she tried to swallow it and say what needed to be said next. Her father's illness was the reason she was making this drastic decision. He'd finally told her the truth two days ago, when he could no longer hide his pain, and the sadness was barely being held at bay. She didn't want to mourn her father before he passed, she wanted them to enjoy every possible moment without worry. So she agreed to his paternal appeal, and here she stood.

"I needed to talk with you tonight."

Aeric nodded, stepping closer and leaning against a beam, giving her his full attention. But holding the gaze of those deep blue eyes was difficult and she turned away slightly. She hated doing this to him. She hated trapping him. "If that marriage proposal is still valid, I would like to change my mind and say yes."

His chest stopped rising and falling, and his eyes continued to bore into her. A horse whinnied and scuffed its hoof, one of the roosters in the yard crowed. At last, he spoke. "Good," was the simple response. "I'm glad."

Really? Why? She turned confused eyes on him, and he smiled, reaching out and pulling her closer to him. Softly, he put his arms around her, and she just naturally laid her head on his chest. She could hear his heartbeat beneath her ear, strong and regular. His arms were warm, and his fingers combed through her unruly hair. She felt his lips on her hair, and his amazing capacity for understanding and kindness made her want to weep.

"It'll be all right Emmy."

But he didn't know about the rest yet. She could wait until after the marriage, and then ask. But that was too close to deception, and she wouldn't do that to him. "There's more, Aeric."

He pulled her closer, his arms wrapping just slightly tighter. "All right."

"Well," she started, realizing this was harder to ask than she'd thought. Which was really saying quite a bit. "I..." she stumbled. Her face had to be flaming red by now. How did anyone ever talk of this casually? "I would like to have a child," she rushed, trying to force out the question quickly.

She heard his heart skip a beat and then sped up, his arms becoming still around her. "Emmy, I can't be here to help you. We'll be leaving in a few weekens, a couple of monens tops-"

"I know," she answered, pulling back slightly so she could force herself to look at him. "I know. I'm not asking you to stay. I know that those people need you, and I would never ask you not to help others." She breathed deeply again, trying to collect her thoughts, to find the words that would help him understand. "When we get married, that will be it for me. This is possibly my one chance to ever have a child, to have someone to pass the farm to after I'm gone. To have something..." dare she say it? "Something of you forever."

There. If he didn't know how she felt now, he was an idiot. And so was she, for in telling him, she just may have made him feel obligated. His fingers gently traced her jaw line, caressing her face. Then slowly, gently, their lips met in a sweet, tender kiss.

"I love you Emmy," he whispered softly making sure she could see his eyes as he spoke the words.

"I love you too," she answered softly.

He let out a breath and rested his forehead against hers. "I have to take care of a few issues before we can have the ceremony. Some details need to be worked out."

She nodded. "We can't wait too long, Papa will not last much longer." Tears pooled in her eyes. "I would really like for him to see me married."

"He will. I promise."

She couldn't hold back any longer, and she threw her arms around his neck and cried. "Oh Aeric, you are too good to me."

He held her tightly for a moment, then stepped out of her embrace, setting her back slightly with his hands on her waist. "I need to go away for a little while. I'm not sure how long I'll be gone, but it shouldn't be any longer than a weeken. Maybe ten solar days."

"Where are you going?" she asked worriedly.

"Marrying me is all well and good, but when I leave, you will be here all by yourself with that fek-face right next door. I'm going to go get help."

"Nobody within a hundred miles is going to help, Aeric. They are too afraid of Standry."

"I know," he told her. "That's why I'm going to go farther out."

"But-"

"Trust me, all right Emmy? And I'm coming back with someone to perform the ceremony."

"All right," she told him reluctantly. "When are you leaving?"

"Right now. We're running out of time." He bent over and kissed her quickly before turning toward the barn door. "Stay close to the house," he threw over his shoulder. "Laighn will be here."

"But it's dark outside!" she called in protest, only it was too late. He was out the door and gone.

xxxxxxx

Aeric soared through the night quietly, dark as the shadows surrounding him, not a whisper of sound emanating from the board beneath his feet. He'd worn the other evo suit for tonight, the one made of all black material. With the black helmet and the black glider, he looked like the alien he was, risen from some evil conjuration.

He laughed at himself and his own musings. This was practicality, not theatrics. It suited his purpose to go unseen. He could just imagine the uproar it would cause if someone saw a man flying around on a metal board. He cringed at the thought.

Tonight, he was flying slower than with the long range mission of a few days ago. He'd overshoot any community close enough to serve his purposes. On his back was a satchel of clothing and gold; he was as prepared as possible for what he intended. Keeping track of his direction from the information being relayed on the view screen in his helmet, he was able to monitor his progression away from the farm, and see long range scans of the area in front of him. Finally, he found a promising settlement.

Slowing and stopping about a half mile from the nearest building, he jumped off his glider and changed his clothes, stuffing the evo-suit and helmet into the satchel. With the exception of the sleek, black board under his arm, he looked like every other man he'd seen since crashing. But he even had an answer for the board. He pulled out a large muslin cloth and wrapped the board inside, tucking in the edges to ensure nothing would be visible.

He was ready. Now was the time for one of his greatest talents: obtaining information and earning the trust of total strangers. After briskly walking the half mile into town, he found himself a room and a meal with relatively little effort. And for the next three days, he watched.

Blending into the crowds, he went unnoticed by those around him. He listened unashamedly to countless conversations, he studied the people and their mannerisms and he noted all the little details people tried to keep hidden.

There was a temporary settlement outside of town, where families moving west would live in their wagons while they re-supplied. The stopover rarely lasted longer than a day or two, but the men frequently took advantage of the rare opportunity for drinking and gambling. But it was the ones that stayed behind with their wives and their children that Aeric was interested in.

On the third day, he decided on the man he was looking for. He'd seen him several times before and recognized him as Tommy, an easterner who had come out west looking for a new beginning with his young bride. Tommy had purchased supplies that evening, and on his way back to the wagon camp was approached by an attractive woman who didn't want to take a polite "no" for an answer. She began to grope him, and he pushed her away, accidentally sending her to the ground.

Angry, the woman began to scream. Several men came running, and without asking questions, the fight was on. And Tommy held his own for a while. He was outnumbered, but he had skills, and Aeric watched for a few moments, sizing him up. Yes, he would do.

Jumping from the shadows onto the boardwalk, he evened up the odds. For his efforts, he received a black eye, a bloody lip and a few bruised ribs. But when everything was done, and Tommy and Aeric stood together on that rough wood breathing heavily amongst the fallen bodies, the man turned with a grateful smile.

"Thank you mister. I owe you one," he said, bent over and holding his ribs.

"Need a job?" Aeric asked. He already knew the man did, but you never reveal all your ammunition. You work it.

"You offerin'?"

"Yes I am."

"Then yes, I do."

"Fair warning. I'm in a land dispute, and there's a bastard that wants my land and my woman. You willing to stay on no matter what?"

"I've got a wife," Tommy answered. "She gonna get hurt?"

"No," Aeric said with certainty. The only woman Standry ever terrorized was Emmaline. If he went after another man's wife, he'd lose any and all credibility. Standry was a thug and a bully, but he wasn't an idiot.

"Then I'll stay no matter what." He held his hand out, and Aeric shook it, the deal sealed.

"Meet me in Gloversville in two weeks," Aeric told him. "I'll take you to the farm and show you around."

"Yes Sir," the man said.

"The name is Aeric," he told the man. "Sir doesn't sit right."

Tommy nodded. "Tommy Henderson. My wife is Susan. You wanna ride back with us?"

"I've got business to attend to, thanks."

The new employee nodded again, waved, and without another word headed back to the wagon camp to tell his wife. Aeric quietly checked out of his room and left town. He still had one more errand.

xxxxxxx

Emmaline stood at the kitchen sink washing the morning dishes and looking out the window to the clear day outside. The birds were gracefully swooping and singing to each other, and the leaves of the trees swayed gently in a soft, warm breeze.

The day was hot, and the water she was immersing her hands into only made the heat worse. The top three buttons of her blouse were loosened and the sleeves of her blouse were rolled up past her elbows. She'd even gone as far as to not wear her stockings and boots. She was feeling quite the gypsy, free and unruly, and smiled to herself.

Her father coughed behind her, and she instantly dropped the plate into the murky water and rushed to his side. "Are you all right Papa?" she asked worriedly, helping him to sit up before fluffing his pillow and leaning him back again.

"I'm fine, honey," he assured weakly. "I'm just getting tired of this sofa."

"Would you like to go for a walk?"

The old man paused, and she could see his eyes considering the offer. He'd been lying down for a very long time, always in pain. She tried to make sure he always had clean sheets and pajamas, and whenever she wasn't able to get the bedpan to him in time, she immediately changed all the bedding. But he hated putting a burden on her.

All farm work had ceased, Laighn spending that time instead helping with the housework, the cooking and the never ending laundry so that she could attend to her father. Nothing was getting done outside, but she didn't care. Papa needed the care.

"No Emmaline, thank you," he finally decided.

For the millionth time, she sent up a prayer that Aeric would return soon, safely. Thomas wasn't going to live much longer, and she desperately wanted her father to be able to pass in peace, knowing that she was cared for.

"I think I'm a little hungry," he lied. He hadn't eaten a proper meal in several days. "A bit of scrambled egg sounds very good right now."

"Yes Papa. I'll have that for you in a little bit," she answered.

But she hadn't gathered eggs in a while, and she would need to go to the hen house. Without bothering to put on her boots, she headed out of the house for the first time in days.

xxxxxxx

Aeric was sore, riding shotgun in the wagon next to the preacher. He hated wagons. But they were almost home. The house came into view when they turned a bend, and he saw Emmaline step off the porch barefoot and head to the chicken coop.

She looked like dren. Her blouse, which was always neat, clean and pressed, was askew, crumpled, and unbuttoned almost to her cleavage. Her shirtsleeves were rolled above her elbows, and her hair was in its perpetual disarray. But it was her face that told of her overwhelming weariness and sleepless nights. Even from this distance, he could see how tired and stressed she was.

He stood up and waved his arms, much to the delight of Preacher Travis. "Emmy!" he hollered loudly. She didn't hear at first, so he tried again, louder. "EMMALINE!"

Her head shot upwards in concern, and the instant she saw him, she dropped her basket and ran at full speed, forgetting the ladylike composure she was always trying to portray. "Aeric!" she hollered. "Aeric! You're home!" Her skirts were in her fists, her legs pumping, her knickers peeking out with each step.

The preacher gasped with shock, but Aeric ignored him and jumped from the moving wagon, nearly losing his stride on the landing. He recovered quickly though, just in time for her arms to fling around his neck and her body to slam into his. Her shoulders were shaking and he could hear the sobs against his shoulder.

"It's all right, Emmy," he told her, holding her against him tightly and slowly walking back to the farm. He waved to the preacher and the wagon continued on. "It's all right, I'm home now."

"He's almost gone, Aeric. I was so afraid you wouldn't be back in time," she sobbed. "I was so afraid you would never be back."

"I'm here," he told her again. "I'm here to help you. We're getting married today, and everything will be all right."

"Today?" she asked in surprise, and pulled her face off his shoulder to look into his. Her green eyes were watery, her face splotchy, her hair matted.

"Yes honey, today. That was a preacher I was riding with. He's going to stay here for a little while, before he moves on to the next settlement over."

"Aeric, I can't get married today. I'm a mess!" She was sufficiently distracted from her larger problems to be released from his hold so that she could walk beside him, although he kept her close with an arm around her waist.

"Bathe then. You have two arns, and then we're getting married."

"But Papa-"

"I'll take care of Thomas. Just go do what you need to and meet us in the common room in two arns."

"That's not enough time, Aeric! I need to pump the water for the-"

"It's already done; Laighn has set up the tub for you in your room. And he promised it's nice and warm."

"How did you-"

"Trust me Emmy. Two arns, and then I'll go in and get you." He leaned over and kissed her on the nose.

Frustrated, excited, and extremely weary, she scrunched her mouth and shot him a sideways look. "Two hours," she mumbled under her breath, as she picked up her speed and began to leave Aeric behind. "High handed! That's what this is. How does he expect me to get ready in…"

She was out of hearing range now and Aeric watched her retreat into the house with determined purpose. At least she wasn't crying anymore.

xxxxxxx

Two arns later, Aeric was ready. His new suit was properly donned, his shoes were shiny, his hair combed back. Laighn was standing beside him, also wearing a new suit, and Thomas was sitting up on the sofa with a blanket over his lap and a huge, if tired, smile on his face.

He was concerned for the old man. His soon to be father-in-law had become even more gaunt and frail in the last ten days. His movements were slow and deliberate, and whenever he talked, his voice was weak, his breath ragged. He did his best to hide the pain, but Crichton could tell it was almost unbearable.

So far, he'd refused any help from the med-pak. Aeric was frustrated, knowing that he could ease this man's suffering. Without anyone's knowledge, he'd hidden a stim-patch in the palm of his hand, and when he'd helped Thomas change his night shirt, he'd stuck it to the old man's back. It wouldn't cure him, but it would help him enjoy this moment he'd desperately wanted to witness.

Preacher Travis was standing before the hearth with a thick bible in his hands, trying to look somber. The man was tall and very thin, with flaming red hair and pointy features that were softened by his continual smile. He looked over and saw the expression on Aeric's face and winked encouragement.

Crichton couldn't help but grin. He'd instantly liked Preacher Travis when they'd met, with his raucous laughter and abundant energy that reached out and sparked motivation into whomever he spoke to. An inner light seemed to shine from him, and Aeric had known that this man was genuine. And he was willing to go against Standry and perform the marriage, which deserved the highest respect.

Emmaline's bedroom door creaked open, and she stood in the doorway, smiling. Aeric couldn't breath. She looked like one of the angels she'd told him about, sent from that heaven she believed in. Her blond hair was braided, decorated by lavender flowers from the front yard. Her cotton dress was all white and flowing, touching the floor. In her hand was a beautiful cluster of purple, red and blue flowers that filled the room with their aroma.

Laighn leaned over slightly, smiling. "At least these smell nice," he whispered under his breath.

But just like his brother-in-law before him all those cycles ago, Aeric never registered the smell. He only saw his bride slowly walking toward him. She absolutely glowed, and he knew he wasn't worthy to be standing here with her, marrying her. He felt humble and overwhelmed.

Finally, she reached his side, and they both turned to face the beaming smile of the red headed preacher. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness one of God's greatest blessings; the union of Aeric and Emmaline in holy matrimony. Should there be anyone who has cause why this couple should not be united in marriage, they must speak now, or forever hold their peace."

The preacher paused, and looked around dramatically, as if to a large crowd. The pause dragged on and he took in a deep breath. "Anyone?" Another sweep of the room with his eyes. "No?"

Aeric coughed and the preacher returned his smiling eyes to the open bible in front of him. "Looks like you lucked out," he told Aeric, eliciting a chuckle from the old man sitting on the sofa.

"Aeric Crichton, do you take Emmaline Savanna Caruthers to be your lawfully wedded wife, to love, honor, cherish and to protect her in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer in good times and in bad, forsaking all others and holding only unto her for as long as you both shall live?"

"Yes," he answered, listening to the pounding of his chest in his heart.

"Do you, Emmaline Savanna Caruthers, take Aeric Crichton to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love, honor, cherish and obey in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, in good times and in bad, forsaking all others and holding only unto him for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do," she said clearly.

"Do you have rings to exchange?" Preacher Travis asked.

Rings? He was supposed to have rings? Why the frell hadn't anyone told him he was supposed to have rings?

"Yes," Thomas said from the sofa. "Yes, they do."

He reached under the blanket and pulled a small box onto his lap. Lifting the lid, he reached inside and took out a small, well worn golden band. He then pulled its mate off the finger on his left hand and cradled both gently in his palm, holding them out to the small group. "You have rings," he told them.

"Oh Papa," Emmaline said with a watery voice and tears in her eyes.

Laighn retrieved them and then returned to the couple, holding the rings in an outstretched hand.

"Aeric, place her ring on her finger and repeat the words 'with this ring, I thee wed.'"

Somberly, Aeric chose the dainty ring that been Emmaline's mothers' and slipped it onto her finger. "With this ring, I thee wed."

"Now it's your turn Emmaline," Travis instructed.

Following Aeric's example, she picked the ring out of Laighn's hand, and slipped it on Aeric's finger. It was slightly large, but neither cared. "With this ring, I thee wed."

"Almost done," the preacher declared. "Just sign here, here and here, and you'll be official," he said, pointing to several documents spread out on the table behind him. They picked up the quill pen and followed his instructions. "Normally, we'd do that after the ceremony, but with Standry and all, I wanted to get it out of the way as soon as possible. All right," he declared, turning to the room with another wide smile. "By the power invested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride."

They were married. That bastard Standry couldn't do a damn thing about it, either.

He pulled Emmy into his arms and planted a solid kiss on her lips, refusing to be cheated out of his wedding kiss for some obnoxious reason like his sister had been. And he wasn't disappointed. She responded with enthusiasm, and fire spread throughout his body.

"Ahem," someone coughed, and Aeric looked up to see three faces smiling with amusement.

"We still have the reception, Romeo," Travis informed him.

"What reception?" Emmaline asked. "It's only the four of us."

Aeric smiled mischievously. He'd done a lot of research while he was finding Travis, and he'd spoken with Laighn over the comms relaying everything he had learned.

"We have cake," Laighn proclaimed proudly.

He stepped over to the cupboard and pulled out a pan that had a brown, fluffy bread type substance in it. On top, decorated with red, handpicked berries, said Happy Union. Of course, it was written in Sebacean, since Laighn had done the decorating, so Aeric translated for the humans' benefit. In the center was a tiny, hand carved wooden statue of a man and a woman.

Tears flowed down Emmaline's cheeks, and she threw her arms around Laighn's shoulders, hugging him tightly for a brief moment. "How did you know?" she asked "Thank you so much. When did you have time to bake it?"

"Aeric," Laighn answered. "Welcome. Sleeping."

She nodded, understanding, and threw her arms around Aeric. "Thank you."

"You need to cut the cake," Thomas directed.

The small party gathered around the sofa, and after following the various customs of cutting the cake and feeding each other, Emmaline took a plate with a very small piece and sat next to her father. Carefully, with chatty conversation, she fed him minuscule bites, so that he could pretend to eat it.

Preacher Travis surprised everyone when he pulled out an accordion, and began to play lively music. Neither Aeric nor Laighn knew how to dance, so Emmaline picked up her skirts and performed a jig for the room, much to the delight of everyone there. Their laughter, music and chatter could be heard from a fair distance away, and even the men hired to watch the Caruther farm could hear the celebration from their posts in the woods.

Quietly, they mounted their horses and slipped into the shadows of dusk, reporting the news to their boss.

xxxxxxx

The wedding couldn't have been more perfect. Emmaline was exhausted after the jig, and flopped down on Aeric's lap, laughing. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had so much fun, and she was sure that absolutely nothing could spoil this perfect day.

Until the loud crash heralded a rock shattering the glass of the front windows. Aeric instantly spun her around and covered her with his own body as the blast of a shotgun outside preceded the splintering of wood being hit with a bullet. A volley of bullets poured through every window, shattering the windows and causing glass to fly everywhere.

Aeric pulled her from her kneeling position before the chair and shoved her to the floor, covering her body again with his own, his hands covering her head. Through her hair, she saw the sofa overturned, covering Papa, and Preacher Travis and Laighn laying close by. At last, the glass was all broken, and only the sound of bullets being fired intermittently could be heard.

"Guess they figured out what we did, eh?" Aeric asked calmly, as though he'd been expecting this attack.

Laighn mumbled something, but he was talking too fast for Emmaline to understand any of it. Aeric agreed to whatever had been suggested, and the pale man began to low crawl his way into the spare room he'd been using.

"Thomas!" Standry yelled from the front yard. "We have the farmhouse surrounded! I've been more than patient for you to come to your senses old man, your time is up. Send Emmaline out, and she will not be harmed. Your farm will not get burned to the ground."

Laighn had returned with several weapons in his hand, only one of which Emmaline could recognize. He handed the pistol to the preacher, and Aeric explained as he crawled off her and toward the nearest window. "Stay here with Emmaline and Thomas," he instructed. If anyone comes inside, kill them. Emmline, get closer to the sofa with your father."

She had no idea what their plan was, but both Aeric and Laighn had positioned themselves near the same window, looking outside and communicating with each other by hand signals and facial expressions. Then, on the count of three, Laighn jumped in front of the window and began to fire bolts of light from his gun as Aeric hurtled the sill and disappeared into the night.

xxxxxxx

Aeric felt a shard of glass slice thorugh his arm as he jumped through the windowsill, but he ignored the pain and rolled onto the porch as Laighn's cover fire flew overhead. Within a microt, he'd rolled to his knees and was pointing two pulse pistols at the riders facing the house. Bullets whizzed by, and he felt a sharp pain in his thigh. But he had his quarry in view, and nothing was going to divert his attention.

Standing, he began to run, drawing fire and ducking until he was clear of the porch. Laighn's shooting was accurate, and one by one, the bad guys were dropping off their horses, wounded. Aeric had specifically told Laighn not to kill anyone, and he had no doubt that his friend would comply, if reluctantly.

Finally, he was close enough to the man who'd been the problem from the beginning.

"You again," Standry said disgustedly, holding up his hand to stop the gunfire, while keeping a pistol pointed at him. "If it weren't for you-"

Aeric wasn't in the mood to talk. This man had tried to rape and kill Emmaline, had tormented her for far too long, and it was never going to end. There was no court of law in this area, he'd checked. A person was expected to protect and hold onto their own. So without a word, without comment, without grandiose gestures, he held up his pulse pistol and shot the bastard right between the eyes. The dead man's shooting hand flinched, but the bullet went into the ground, and Standry fell from his horse.

Deathly silence descended, the only sound a low moan of the breeze traveling through the trees. All of the hired hands were in shock. "Your boss is dead!" Aeric hollered, loud enough for men on both sides of the house to hear. "There's no one to pay you now!"

He kept his words simple, the meaning clear. One by one, the men turned and quietly rode away in different directions, no longer having any reason to stay, or to even care. Not a single one of them held a spark of sympathy, or loyalty, to the man lying in a pool of his own muddy blood. Villains, it appeared, were the same everywhere in the universe.

Stepping over to Standry's corpse, he couldn't help but study the open, lifeless eyes. Maybe it was a macabre interest, he couldn't say. It had been a very long time since he'd killed a man. But he knew himself, he knew the pattern his psyche followed. Right now, he was numb. He had to do it, there had been no other recourse, and so for the moment he felt cold and uncaring.

That was usual. And tonight, or tomorrow night, and for many nights after that, the dreams would come. He would be haunted during the daytime, tormented by night. And it would be a very long time before he would be able to get those lifeless brown eyes out of his head. So for the moment, he enjoyed the small reprieve from guilt. He would appreciate the inability to care. And he would stay awake for as long as he was physically able.

His head swam, and he felt himself stagger slightly to the side. His knees hit the dirt ground, and when his eyes fell downward, he realized that his left leg had a hole in it that had been gushing sticky red blood. Frell. He'd let himself get shot.

He heard Emmaline's voice screaming his name as his shoulder met the rocks, felt her hands on his face. He tried to tell her that he would be all right, but his thoughts would not connect together. He desperately wanted to stay awake, so he concentrated on the swirling colors, the disjointed voices, the pain of being lifted and moved.

But he was cold, and his mind could only handle so much shock, and it removed the choice from him, shutting down so that the body could cope.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Emmaline sat on the porch bench, staring out at the farm, her thoughts chaos, her body bereft of any strength. It had been a week since she'd been married. What a week it had been. That first night, the only who person who slept was Aeric, and only because he was unconscious from blood loss.

Pulling out the bullet had been a fairly quick process- it was stemming the flow of blood and watching him all night to make sure he was still alive that had been the difficult part. Then there was the fever, and the seizures.

Her father was barely holding onto life. She was almost surprised he hadn't given up yet and returned to his maker, and to his beloved Savanna. But something was keeping him here, in the half life she knew he hated so much. And despite how hard everything was, she was glad. It was selfish, but she was grateful that she could look him in the eyes in the morning and tell him how much she loved him, and see his weak smile and feel the caress of his fingers on her cheek.

Laighn had been wounded, but had refused all help, choosing to bandage and medicate himself. He had been a pillar of strength these last days, sharing her burden of caring for both Aeric and Papa. Preacher Travis had been quietly serving in the background, doing the small chores before anyone could ask, bringing comfort, praying over the sick.

Standry's body had disappeared, and she was rather ashamed of herself that she couldn't bring herself to care what had happened to it. If she wagered a guess, someone had put him back on his horse and sent it home.

How long had it been since she'd changed her blouse? Or brushed her hair? Sighing, she realized she didn't care. The breeze was cool on her face and arms. The chickens clucking in the yard were lulling her to a gentle nap. Maybe she should sleep. Maybe she _could_ sleep, if she just stayed very still.

But the unmistakable sound of a rattling wagon approaching halted any such whimsical fantasies, pulling her back into the reality she'd so desperately needed to escape momentarily. Something else to feel guilty for. Searching the distant path, she was surprised to find a covered wagon slowly approaching.

A man and a woman were riding in front, looking about them and pointing out the various pieces of scenery, talking and enjoying each other's company. They were riding over the private road that led straight to the farm, so there was no mistaking their destination.

Her heart plunged, instantly realizing how shabby the farm must look to these people. She looked lazy and sloppy, her hair askew, her blouse rumpled and stained, no shoes. She was covered in several days' worth of grime. But knowing her duty, she stood and left the porch, smoothing her skirts as best she could as she forced a smile to her lips to greet their visitors.

Laighn stepped from the barn where he'd been milking the cows and stood guard, one hand lifted to his belt. Preacher Travis was inside, sitting in the sick room and attending to the men. He'd insisted that she have a few moments rest.

"Hello," she greeted the approaching couple, aware that her voice sounded cautious and was sad because of it.

The wagon was now in the drive, and came to a stop as it drew near Emmaline. The woman looked to be in her early twenties, the man not much older. "Hello," the man said. "My name is Tommy Henderson. This is my wife Susan."

"Please to meet you," Emmaline told them, hoping that the weariness in her voice wasn't as evident to them as it was to her. "You're welcome to stay the night, but I'm afraid-"

"Aeric Crichton hired me to work for him a couple of weeks ago," Tommy interrupted, looking concerned. "He told me he'd meet me in Gloversville, but when we got there, we'd heard of the difficulty you've had here, and we rode straight in, hoping we could help."

Tears formed in her eyes and she mentally kicked herself in the backside, trying to hold the sob at bay. Overwhelming gratitude flowed over her. "I'm sorry," she choked. "Circumstances being what they are, he didn't tell me. And we haven't had a chance to prepare anyplace for you."

"That's all right," Susan said, shaking her head. "We've been using the wagon for a while now anyways. A little longer won't hurt."

Tommy had jumped down and circled around, now helping his wife descend from her seat. She was a beautiful woman, and Emmaline guessed that, like her, the woman was in her early twenties.. Susan had a beautiful smile.

"This is Laighn," she said, finally remembering his presence, and beckoned him over. She knew by the look on his face that he wasn't happy she was dragging him into the introductions, but she needed the focus on someone other than herself. "He is Aeric's…" what was he? "Business partner and close friend." There. That was fairly close, at least. "He's foreign," she explained when she saw the looks on their face. "And he doesn't speak a lot of English. But he understands fairly well."

The pale man nodded and shook Tommy's hand.

"I'd bring you to Aeric, but he's still weak and-"

"Oh, we heard all about what happened," Susan said, reaching over and grabbing both of Emmaline's hands, squeezing them. "And your father is ill, is he not?" she asked, concern in her eyes. "You must be all done in. Show me where the kitchen is, and let me make you something to eat. We're here to help."

And that was the beginning of the very first friendship Emmaline had ever had with another woman. She was an angel sent from God, and as Susan lovingly cooked meals, cleaned laundry, changed bed pans and offered copious amounts of hugs, Emmaline's tattered spirits slowly started to mend.

The days passed quickly now, and Aeric's fever dropped. The morning he opened his eyes and smiled at her, she felt a giant weight lift from her shoulders. "Come here, Emmy," he said, and she obeyed willingly. She knelt beside his bed and laid her head on his chest, loving the feel of his hand comb through her hair. "How long has it been?" he asked.

"About two weeks. I was afraid I'd lost you, just when you were finally mine," she whispered softly.

"It takes more than a little blood loss to kill a Crichton," he told her, and she couldn't help but chuckle.

"That's what Laighn said."

"Come here," he instructed again, and she scooted up closer to him. He lifted a finger and slowly traced the lines of her face. "Come here," he whispered softly, as he pulled her head down to his, touching her lips with his own in a soft kiss. "I love you."

"I love you too."

"I'm going to be fine."

She nodded, feeling more of the worry that had gripped her so tightly for so long fade away. Peace entered her heart, and for days, she was able to live in a soft haze of vague hopefulness. So when her father chose to leave, she was capable of surviving the heartbreak, if only just.

It was in the evening, after supper. Aeric was well enough now to sit beside her as she knelt at Papa's side, insisting on holding his hand to the end. He was pale, he was thin, and the only smilarity that remained of the robust man was the light in his eyes. They shimmered with tears as he reached out and caressed his daughter's cheek one last time, smiling at her with love and devotion.

"I made it Emmy," he told her. "I made it long enough to see you safe."

"Yes Papa," she choked. "Yes Papa, you did. Everything is wonderful now."

"Are you happy girl?" he asked weakly.

"Yes Papa, I am happy."

"I knew it," he said with satisfaction, leaning farther into his pillows. "I knew He would provide for you." He squeezed her hand weakly and brushed her tears away. "Hold onto your faith girl. No matter what happens, no matter where you go, _trust Him._"

"Yes Papa, I promise," she whispered. "I love you."

"I love you too Emmaline. You are my pride and joy."

One of her tears fell from her face and dripped onto his cheek. Gently, she leaned over and touched her lips to the moisture, softly kissing his face. "Tell Mama hello for me," she whispered. "Tell her I love her."

"I will girl, I will."

One last soft squeeze of his hands, and he slipped away from them, the name Savanna softly escaping his lips with his last breath. Torment ripped through her body, and she felt Aeric gather her into his arms as great wracking sobs consumed her. He cradled her, rocking gently, soothing. Through her own tears, she could feel his chest heave with his effort to hold himself together, and took solace in the fact that he loved Papa as well. She wasn't completely alone.

xxxxxxx

Everything seemed a bit surreal for Aeric after Thomas died. First the days, then the weeks began to speed by. Tommy had proven to be an adept foreman with big plans for the farm. He'd hired extra men and within a short while, not only had they built a small house for him and his wife, they'd built a bunkhouse for the workers. He'd toured the farm and told Aeric what needed repair, what should be scrapped and rebuilt, and he'd presented innovative ideas that really impressed the young soldier.

And because Tommy was so adept at what he did, Aeric had more time to work on his module. Laighn had left the farm, choosing to live in the ship. He couldn't blame him. Everything had changed at the farm. And he knew that soon, he and his friend would have to leave. Mostly, he tried not to think about that eventuality. The more time he spent with Emmaline, the more he realized how much he loved her, and how hard it would be to leave her behind.

But in the meantime, he still had one more promise to fulfill.

xxxxxxx

Emmaline sat in the window seat staring up at the bright stars in the dark sky, silent tears flowing down her cheeks. She wrapped the blanket tighter around her bare shoulders and suppressed a hiccup. She didn't want to wake Aeric, she'd be mortified to face him again. This, their first night together, the night he tried to consummate their marriage, and she'd ruined it.

The evening had started out so wonderful, so magical. They'd had dinner by themselves for the very first time. They'd talked and laughed. When they'd finally gone to their bedroom, he'd taken her into his arms and kissed her deeply, bringing out feelings she'd never experienced before.

He'd touched her, caressed her, nuzzled her until she felt like she was going to explode. And then he'd tried to… well he'd _tried to_. At first, it was only slightly uncomfortable, but the other sensations he was creating throughout her body more than compensated.

Until the searing pain sliced throughout her pelvis. She'd cried out in pain, shocked and terrified. Instantly, he was gone and his leaving hurt as well. "Emmy! I'm so sorry!" he exclaimed, searching her scrunched up face with worry, smoothing her hair away, looking helpless. "I'm sorry, hezmana, I'm so sorry."

"Please," she told him as the burning started to ease slightly, "Please finish."

He pulled her into his arms, holding her close, breathing into her neck. "Emmy," he told her with incredulity, "I can't finish. Not after that. I can't hurt you again. I'm sorry."

"Please," she begged, mortified. "Please finish. I want this baby."

"I can't, Emmy," he choked. "I'm not like Standry. I can't… perform… if it's going to hurt you. I'm sorry."

They'd held each other after that, her quietly crying into his bare chest, his arms holding her close. She'd ruined her chance to carry his baby, all because she couldn't handle a little pain. She knew it was going to be uncomfortable, hadn't she seen how the female animals never received any enjoyment from the unions?

"Emmy," Aeric's voice drifted from the bed, interrupting her musings.

"I'm over here," she told him. "In the window seat."

"Come here," he told her, holding out his arm, beckoning. "Come join me."

Wiping the tears away, she wrapped the blanket tighter around her shoulders and headed for the bed. The room was dark, and she tripped over her clothes that had been thrown to the floor, landing cross-wise on Aeric, causing his air to whoosh out.

"If you didn't want to come over here," he gasped, "all you had to do was say so."

She couldn't help but giggle. Then she shrieked when his fingers attacked the ticklish spot on her sides. He'd found that spot by accident during the self defense lessons, and was being unmerciful. She squirmed, she shrieked, she gasped, but he wouldn't stop until tears from her gales of laughter were streaming down her face.

When he finally stopped, he was laying atop her, looking down into her face. "That's better," he said. "I love the sound of your laughter."

She turned to a puddle of goo right then, and she was sure that if she hadn't been lying down, she would have fallen. She was still gasping for air, and the weight of his body was making the task more difficult. But she didn't care.

His head slowly lowered, his eyes never wavering from hers until their lips softly joined. Was that her moan or his? It didn't matter. She only knew that he was creating a fire inside her, one that wanted and needed him closer. They were completely naked, their skin nearly fused together. But as the fire grew, her need to have him closer became almost desperate. She wanted them to melt together, to be one.

As his mouth explored hers, tasting her, consuming her, she kept pulling him tighter and tighter, hoping to satiate the burning need that kept growing. "Please!" she begged, desperate and not sure what to ask for.

He stopped kissing her, his breath ragged and heavy as if he'd been running. He gasped a few times before speaking softly in her ear. "We're going to try again, Emmy." With his words, her already taught muscles began to scream again, and the pool of fire between her legs blazed hotter. She could only nod. "But you have to promise me something," he gasped.

"Anything," she said, embarrassed at her desperation. Just please, get closer!

"Promise to tell me if it hurts." No! She couldn't do that! He must have sensed her pause, the small intake of her breath. "Promise me Emmy. I'm going to try something different, but I can't hurt you. I won't hurt you."

"All right," she gasped, feeling him rub against her, flaming the fire deeper. "I promise." Anything.

This time was different. He moved slower, and watched her expression with each movement, gauging how he was affecting her. His eyes showed concern and concentration. And while things were slightly uncomfortable, there was absolutely none of the pain as before.

Then slowly, ever so slowly, something shifted- something indefinable. And it began to grow, to consume her. When they were completely joined, entirely one, he began to kiss her. And when he wasn't plundering her with his mouth, he was speaking to her, coaxing her in his native language. She couldn't understand a word of what he was saying, but there was something in the cadences that made her blood burn hotter and when the rolling waves began to course throughout her body, she could hear him call her name. It felt as if she was slowly exploding from the inside out, and every muscle in her body was convulsing at the same time.

Just when she thought there was no way she could continue on without dying, Aeric began to gasp and shake, and she could tell that he too was feeling the same things. She had done this. Desire for her had sent him into ecstasy, and when he convulsed inside her, releasing his seed, she could hold back no longer and she screamed his name as the final explosion sent stars over her vision. Every muscle contracted violently and held forever until finally, slowly, everything began to fade.

Her lips were numb. Her toes were still tingling. The occasional small electrical pulse would cause her to twitch. He kissed her gently. "I love you Emmy," he whispered softly, drowsily, before he laid his head beside her on the pillow and fell asleep. They were still joined, though he'd receded slightly. Eternally grateful that he hadn't removed his comforting weight, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held on, falling asleep more content than she'd ever felt in her entire life.

xxxxxxx

"We're done," Laighn said, stepping back and studying their handiwork with satisfaction. "She's ready."

That announcement left Aeric with mixed emotions. He wasn't homesick. He had no desire to go back. But it was time. He walked home with a heavy heart, and when he saw his wife cooking dinner, he thought he was going to break down. This was almost as bad as sitting in that frelling Aurora Chair.

She was talking cheerfully about her day with Susan, and how the two had quilted together and how she'd been sick most of the morning. "I'm hoping this doesn't last much longer," she told him. "I'm not getting very many chores done around here. I don't know what I'd do without Susan's help. But she's going to need help soon herself." She turned beaming eyes at Aeric. "She's pregnant too!"

The look on his face must have been telling; Emmaline's smile slowly faded and she stood rooted to her spot, the spoon and cloth in her hand forgotten. He didn't know how long they stood there, looking at each other. He needed to tell her, but the words simply wouldn't leave his mouth.

"It's time," she stated, solving the problem for him. "You're leaving."

He could only nod. She tried to be stoic. She nodded her head, her mouth set in a grim line and turned back to the stove, pulling the beef stew from the burner and placing it on the table. Her back was to him, and when she set her hands squarely on the edge and lowered her head, he could see her shoulders begin to shake.

"Emmy," he choked. "I-"

"When do you leave?" she asked without turning to him, her voice wavering slightly.

"Tomorrow morning."

She nodded again, but a sob broke out. Keeping her face away from him, she began to run for their bedroom, but he was too fast for her and managed to intercept before she could disappear through the door. Her body weight slammed into him, and he wrapped his arms around her, tucking her head into his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she cried into his shoulder. "I told myself I wouldn't do this to you."

He felt her fingers in his hair, caressing him, soothing him, and he realized that he was crying as well. His shoulders were shaking, his chest was constricting, and the heaving sobs were his own. Frell. He was crying like a baby in front of his wife. His pregnant wife. She didn't need this.

She kissed his cheek, their tears mingling, then the corner of his mouth. Turning his head slightly, he was able to capture her mouth in his own. The taste of her triggered a primal need, and he swept her into his arms and carried her into their room. There was an urgency as they made love, a desperation, and afterwards, they lay in each others arms, holding each other tightly.

"What shall we name our baby?" she asked, idly trailing her finger over his chest.

"I would like her to have my mother's name," he told her, not sure how that would go over. "Aeryn."

She sighed wistfully. "That's beautiful. How does Aeryn Savanna sound?"

"Perfect," he told her, kissing the top of her head.

"What if it's a boy?" she asked.

"She'll be a girl," he said with certainty. "With blond hair and green eyes."

"Aeric," she said, ignoring his stubbornness. "Aeric Thomas Crichton."

"No, I don't think-"

"I want him to be named Aeric," she told him, propping herself on one elbow and poking him in the chest with her finger. "So he will learn about his father, and how smart, and brave, and kind, and-"

Aeric couldn't take listening to this list of his attributes, especially since he knew they weren't true. So he grabbed her finger and brought it to his mouth, kissing the tip gently. "And while you're at it," he said, "teach him how to be good like you. Teach him about that god that you believe in, and about heaven."

He wanted to believe in her heaven. According to her, they could be together again when they died. He wondered if her god would let him in, or if he could even find it on the other side of the universe.

"I love you," she whispered, and leaned forward to kiss him.

This time, there was gentleness. This time, their caresses were savored, every touch cherished, every kiss a declaration of fidelity. This was the last time either of them would ever make love, and so throughout the night, they shared a lifetime of tenderness. The occasional tear shared between the two could be excused as they bid farewell to each other in the only way that could bring either any measure of comfort.

When the sun rose in the morning, Aeric dressed quietly, everything already said. He kissed Emmy once more, and then walked out of the farmhouse for the very last time. She didn't join him; they'd already said their good byes. And he was not going to explain his absence to anyone else.

It was a solitary walk back to the module, and he concentrated on the scamper of animals in the underbrush, the song of the familiar birds overhead- anything to keep his mind free and his feet walking in the right direction.

Laighn was nowhere to be found when he finally closed the module door behind himself- he must be out saying his own good-byes. All preparations had already been completed; there was nothing left to do. But he walked to the cargo hold and rechecked the supply of flowers, making sure the containers holding them were sealed properly and that there had been no contamination.

The task didn't take long since they'd already checked them the previous evening, and eventually he found himself sitting the pilot's seat, staring at the empty view-screen before him. He had no idea how long he sat there, but at last he could hear the door of the module open and close. There was the sound of heavy boxes shifting and dragging, and then the light footsteps of his friend.

"Hey," Laighn said in greeting, plopping down in his co-pilot seat.

"Hey."

"How you holding up?" the half-Nebari asked.

Aeric knew his friend was only trying to help, but he didn't want to talk right now. Knowing it was right to leave her behind didn't take the ripping pain out of his chest. "Cloaking device?" he asked without responding to the sympathy.

"Check," Laighn said, getting the hint.

"Gravitational stabalizers?"

"Check."

"Atmospheric neutralizers?"

"Check."

"Power supply?"

"Check. We have enough for one liftoff, and one trip through the wormhole. If Moya isn't on the other side when we come out, we're screwed."

"Wormhole destabalizer?"

"Check."

"Let's do this then."

Glad to have his mind occupied by something other than his wife, he flipped the necessary switches, listening to the gentle hum of the module as she slowly breathed life back into her metal body. He could instinctively feel as each system came online, and despite his pain, he couldn't help but smile. The other love of his life was alive again.

Carefully, he pulled back on the flight stick and felt his module shudder and shake with effort. "Come on girl, you can do this," he whispered under his breath, concentrating on the controls before him. Slowly, he could feel the rise of machinery, and snapping branches could be heard through the speakers monitoring the surrounding area.

They were hovering a few motras off the ground. So far, so good. Now to see if she would fly. He pushed a few more buttons, noting Laighn through his peripheral vision doing similar work on his side. They were a good team.

He pulled harder on the controls, and he could feel them rising. Momentum slowly picked up, and they were still rising. "We need to pick up speed," Laighn warned nervously. "If we don't break hetch three by the time we hit the ozone, we'll be fried."

"Come on, come on, come on," Aeric coaxed, pulling harder on the control and turning the ship at an angle to pick up wind velocity.

"We're not gonna make it!" Laighn declared.

"We'll make it," Aeric answered.

"We're not gonna make it!"

"We'll make it!"

"We're not gonna make it!"

The heat of the command had become intolerable and Aeric could feel the sweat pouring over his face and irritating his eyes. But he held on, refusing to give up. This was their only chance, their one shot. They would make it, or they would die trying.

"We'll make it!" he hollered as his heart raced uncontrollably. The flight stick in his grasp was fighting for freedom and the entire ship around him was shaking with the monumental effort at breaking atmosphere mere microts after resurrection.

"We're not gonna make it!"

"YES! WE! WILL!" he hollered as several monitors shattered and one panel in the back fell off, allowing steam to pour into the small area. The entire ship shuddered under the strain, and as the blue sky faded away into darkness, two male voices could be heard hollering as their adrenalin pumped in their veins.

And then everything stopped. The shaking halted, the monitors settled themselves into proper reading, the flight stick was immobile in his hand. They were surrounded with the darkness of space. They had made it.

"WOOHOO!" Laighn hollered, throwing his arms in the air above his head in victory. He was out of his seat, jumping around and cheering. "We made it! We made it! Jelenn, I'm on my way home. YES!"

Aeric laughed at the antics, glad that they hadn't died... sort of. While his friend continued with the victory dance, he looked out the view-screen to the blue orb beneath them. For sixteen cycles he'd been obsessed with Earth. He'd hoped that with this visit, he'd be able to exorcize its lure from his heart. But that was impossible now. The best part of him was gone, left behind on the one planet that ever felt like home, and the one place he could never stay.

Before them was their portal back to Moya.

"You ready for the next part?" he asked his friend.

"Fire away," was the response, as Laighn settled back into his seat with a huge smile. He pulled out the charm of Jelenn and kissed it quickly before putting it back into his shirt and patting it through the material.

Without hesitation, Aeric plunged them into the swirling blue mass. All his thoughts and concentration were on the speeding path before them. If they took the turns a little too sharply, a little too closely, Laighn would never know the difference. He listened to the music, to the rhythm and cadences, and finally, they emerged on the other side.

"Fire the wormhole destabalizer," he instructed, and Laighn hit a button on the control panel. A single green orb of light fired from their ship, disappearing into the blue funnel. Both sets of eyes watched the monitor intently, waiting.

Finally, slowly, the numbers started to drop. "Wormhole seventy five percent stable," Laighn reported. "Sixty three percent. Forty eight percent. Twenty six percent. Seventeen percent stable."

There would be no traveling through that wormhole. Anyone trying to would be dispersed instantly. "Wormhole un-navigatable," Laighn reported. "You did it."

"Yes I did."

"Hey Aeric, Laighn, is that you? Where the frell have you been the last two weekens? We almost gave up!"

Aeric rolled his eyes, and Laighn started to laugh. "Who the frell let Dne run the command center?" Aeric asked ruefully.

"Yeah, it's us," Laighn answered the boy. "Tell everyone we're on the way."

"I'm sending the new rendezvous coordinates," Dne told them. "We had a scare with a Stryker and had to relocate."

Suddenly, Aeric had no regrets about leaving Emmaline behind. For half a microt, he'd considered bringing her. But he wasn't even home for an eighth of an arn before bad news hit again. A calming peace entered into his heart. She was safe. Their child would be safe. They would be taken care of. That knowledge would give him the strength to finish this mission, the one that could possibly end the carnage throughout this end of space, and save earth.

"Thanks Dne," he answered his brother. "It looks like it's going to take us a couple of arns to get there."

"We'll have the light on for you."

Aeric sighed and turned off the transponder, leaning back heavily into his chair. They were on their way home. They had the answer to the Scarren domination. The love of his life was safe. Their child would grow to an adult without having to worry what catastrophe would happen next. The pain in his chest became a dull throb. Hope. Always hope.


End file.
